Unintended
by unknown ghost author
Summary: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker have to face the consequences of their secretive actions in a very real - and very alone - way.
1. Chapter 1

**Unintended One**

* * *

Sideswipe helped Sunstreaker lower himself down to the golden twin's berth, and though he tried to be careful, Sunstreaker still twisted briefly in pain. "Sorry," Sideswipe whispered as he helped his brother lean back, lying him flat out on his berth in their shared quarters.

Sunstreaker sighed, exhausted, as he rested, letting his joints and arms relax beneath him while his helm rolled to the side on his berth, optics offline. Sideswipe backed away a few steps, then lowered sat down on the edge of his own berth, optics fixed firmly on his brother.

It had been a horrible, terrible couple of days for Sideswipe. Ever since the battle, when Sunstreaker had had a near-tragic run-in with the Sunticons, and then had been carried away by Breakdown and Wildrider when the Decepticons had pushed the Autobots back before fleeing again. Sideswipe had been entirely beside himself, frantic with worry and fear over Sunstreaker's abduction. The last time he had seen him, he'd been unconscious, sparking from his injuries - including a near-torn-off leg joint fritzing madly - as Breakdown dragged his brother's body behind him. Sideswipe never wanted to see Sunstreaker's helm bounce against the ground like that again.

Soundwave, however, had been careless during the battle, something that surprised Prime and Prowl, and allowed the both of them to quickly capture the Decepticon. Megatron was furious and enraged, and that had effectively ended the battle, forcing the Decepticon advance to halt when Starscream claimed he couldn't retrieve Soundwave from Prowl's clutches.

Sideswipe hadn't been involved with any of that, focused entirely on Sunstreaker's horribly bouncing helm against the ground and the hideous scrapping sound his body made as he was dragged away behind Breakdown's frame.

Bluestreak had forced him back, forced him to not tear after Sunstreaker and held him to their lines. Sideswipe hadn't ever wanted to hurt Bluestreak before, but he did just then. He wanted to rip Bluestreak's arms from his shoulder joints, push Bluestreak away, run after his brother and destroy everything in his path.

Jazz helped Bluestreak restrain Sideswipe, then calmed him down enough to drive back to the _Ark_. Jazz promised, on his spark, to bring Sunstreaker back. Sideswipe didn't have much history with trusting others, aside from Sunstreaker, and Primus knew he wasn't trusting Bluestreak at all at the moment, but Jazz had never broken a promise he'd made. He made very, very few, of course, but those that he did make, he kept.

"We have Soundwave, Siders," Jazz had said calmly, both black hands on Sideswipe's shoulder joints, holding the red twin together. "Just wait. We'll get Sunny back soon."

Sideswipe was banned from the Command Deck when they got back. His pacing, his frantic panting, and his continuing shifting through the targeting lenses on his rifle wasn't welcome. He paced outside the _Ark_ instead.

Prowl and Prime stayed on the Command Deck as Ironhide and Jazz put Soundwave in the brig below. Jazz was making his way back up to the Command Deck when Megatron's call came in. It was a good thing, actually, that Sideswipe wasn't on the Command Deck when Megatron offered the proof of life for Sunstreaker during their prisoner exchange negotiations.

Megatron needed, desperately, to have Soundwave back, and the Decepticon was a terrible prisoner on the _Ark _anyway. He refused to speak or offer any intelligence to the Autobots, and they didn't have the resources to keep him locked within the _Ark_ for an eternity, nor had the strength to beat back Megatron's never-ending assaults if they did keep him. Sunstreaker was injured, badly, and needed medical aid. Ratchet's sharply inhaled vents and scowling features told that to everyone, as if the image of Sunstreaker's mangled, unconscious, nearly-shredded form did not.

Jazz and Ironhide agreed to meet at the dam with Soundwave, and Megatron sent Thundercracker and Ramjet while Vortex carried Sunstreaker's limp body in a slingload beneath him. Ratchet, after patching Soundwave's minor injuries in the medbay, tagged along with Jazz and Ironhide as Soundwave collapsed himself down to his alt mode, sitting uncomfortably within Ironhide and strapped in a pseudo-binding thanks to an intricately tied seatbelt arrangement.

Sideswipe was forbidden to accompany them.

It was a long, too-long wait, the hours ticking by in agony for Sideswipe. Briefly, once, he felt a surge in his spark, the flickering presence of his brother unleashing itself within him once more. It faded as soon as it came, but Sideswipe gasped, clinging to the small bit of Sunstreaker's returning consciousness and turning the memory over within his processor; Ratchet was working on Sunstreaker in the field, stabilizing and controlling the energon leaks, the sparking circuits, doing what he could to make transport safer and easier.

Though Sideswipe was still upset that Sunstreaker wasn't here, he had to relax slightly. If Ratchet was taking the time to work on him in the field, then that meant Sunstreaker wasn't quite on death's door. He'd be racing back to the _Ark_ at full speed if so, or calling Skyfire for a rapid transport with Wheeljack and First Aid on board.

When Ratchet finally arrived, Sunstreaker was stable, though he still looked horrific. His leg needed to be reattached, and the damages to his lower abdomen was contained within a static bandage. His paint was scratched deep, more off than on in large parts of his body, while ragged tears in his plating still had dried energon surrounding them. His helm had several large dents all around it, dirt ground in. Sideswipe watched them wheel Sunstreaker into the _Ark_ and to the medbay as he plodded along behind, Ratchet speaking in low voices with the med team as First Aid furiously input everything into a data pad.

Ratchet reattached his leg, then worked to repair the burns to his abdomen while Wheeljack de-dented and cleaned the Lambo's other injuries. Sideswipe sat on the decking just inside the medbay, watching it all.

They were worried about his processor, after all the jostling his helm had taken. Sideswipe was finally beginning to feel normal again, after Ratchet reattached the leg and the energon had been mostly cleaned from his body by Wheeljack, and was able to quip back to Ratchet that he was **always** worried about Sunstreaker's processor. Ratchet grinned at him before starting the defrag program on Sunstreaker.

Jazz checked in much later, letting Sideswipe know that he had removed the red twin from the duty rotation the next day while Sunstreaker healed. Sideswipe thanked him stiffly, both for the day off to stay with his brother and for keeping his promise. Sunstreaker was going to be just fine.

Sunstreaker woke up finally with both Ratchet and Sideswipe leaning over his faceplates, both pairs of optics staring downward expectantly.

"Frag off," Sunstreaker groaned, weakly pushing his hand out to wave both of them away from his berth. "I'm fine."

Ratchet, predictably, rolled his optics and sighed, while Sideswipe grinned his trademark, lopsided, exuberant grin down at his brother. Sunstreaker just glared at him even harder.

Sideswipe was collecting energon cubes for them all, bringing one back to Ratchet as a simple thank you gift for his work on Sunstreaker, when Sunstreaker discovered the extent of his mangled paint. Sideswipe couldn't help the brief chuckle that exploded from him as he caught sight of Sunstreaker's pouting, twisted faceplates. No one could pout like Sunstreaker could.

However, Ratchet felt that if Sunstreaker could throw a temper tantrum and pout himself into a scowl, then he was well enough to slag off out of the medbay. "I'm tired of looking at you," Ratchet said gruffly, adding as an almost after thought, "Again."

Sunstreaker glared at Ratchet as Sideswipe helped his brother down off the berth, Sunstreaker still wincing slightly as the pain lingered on. Ratchet, despite his harsh words, helped escort Sunstreaker to the doorway, all the while giving strict instructions to them both to rest, fuel up extra, and to report back with any questions or concerns. Then, he let them loose.

Sideswipe wrapped his arm tighter around Sunstreaker's waist, drawing his brother close as they limped back to their shared quarters together. Sunstreaker, after a moment, draped his arm over Sideswipe's shoulders and leaned into the embrace his brother offered. He truthfully didn't need that much support, but it was welcomed after what he had been through.

"I'll paint you, Sunny," Sideswipe said softly as they approached their quarters. "I'll help you fix your paint." Sunstreaker grunted.

Sunstreaker rolled his helm again on the berth, now looking across the small separation between their two berths in their small quarters. Only a simple table, strewn with rifle parts and old energon cubes, separated the heads of their berths. Sideswipe met his online optics and smiled softly at his brother. "How do you feel?"

Sunstreaker shifted, a slight grimace crossing his features again. "Stiff," he said after a moment, rolling his shoulder and hip joint briefly before reaching across to Sideswipe and holding his hand out to his brother.

Sideswipe's smile grew as he tangled their fingers together. "You're always a stiff, Sunny."

Sunstreaker grumbled low in his throat. He tugged on Sideswipe's hand, pulling his brother from his own berth to his. Sideswipe put up a token resistance, though he sat down next to Sunstreaker with a sigh and a small smile as Sunstreaker scooted to make room for his body.

Sideswipe inhaled shakily as Sunstreaker's other hand wound its way up Sideswipe's armor and sideseams, gently rubbing the edges of his backplating. Sideswipe arched his back briefly, rolling his shoulder joints as he squeezed down on Sunstreaker's hand still tangled with his own.

"Sunny…" he breathed, tilting his helm as Sunstreaker's fingers continued their caress, now stroking slowly over his backstruts. "You need to rest." Sideswipe tried his best to glare down at his brother.

Ratchet's pain medications were still in Sunstreaker's systems, still drugging his thoughts and teasing his movements. He'd never be so bold otherwise. He grinned, his own lopsided, feral smile, up at his brother as he tugged again on the hand he still had entangled with Sideswipe's. "C'mon, Sides…" he whispered. "Make it better."

"You need to rest," Sideswipe said again, even as he let himself be pulled down next to Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker's hand dragged over his plating.

"You know you want to," Sunstreaker whispered, his yellow fingers dropping lower, tracing the edges of Sideswipe's black hipplates along the finely hand-painted demarcation line between his white abdominal plating and his black hipplates. The fog of the pain medications was doing funny things to Sunstreaker's inhibitions.

Sideswipe groaned and leaned his helm against Sunstreaker, thudding the two black armor plates together. He bit his lower lip, trying to twist his hipplates away from Sunstreaker's wandering, teasing fingers, and only managing to press himself deeper into his brother's frame.

"You need to rest," Sideswipe tried, one last time, to remind both of them of Sunstreaker's injuries.

"No, I need you," Sunstreaker leaned forward, capturing Sideswipe's lipplates. He'd never been so bold, ever.

Sideswipe lost it then, tossed away his control and his inhibitions, grabbing Sunstreaker's helm in both of his hands to kiss his brother back. The pleasure, the surging of feeling within him burned through everything, igniting the tensions and electrical fires that had built within. He gasped, his hands clenching his borther in a too-strong hold as he shook.

Later, they both collapsed backwards, panting. Sideswipe couldn't move, and didn't, resting himself against Sunstreaker's shoulder joint as he tried to focus.

Sunstreaker's arms still circled Sideswipe's body in a loose embrace. Sideswipe wobbled as he shifted over Sunstreaker's body. "Stay," Sunstreaker grunted, shifting slightly onto his side to make room for his brother to join him.

Sideswipe stretched out on his side, drawing close to Sunstreaker and pressing his forehelm into his brother's. Sunstreaker wound his fingers into Sideswipe's, drawing his brother's body flush up against his own. His optics were offline, already partly in recharge, and Sideswipe wrapped his other arm around his Sunstreaker, tucking his brother into his embrace. He savored the moment, for as long as he could, before he fell into recharge.

* * *

"Sideswipe, I need to see you in the medbay." Ratchet's voice pinged over Sideswipe's comm unit on the Command Deck during his entirely too-boring shift at the _Ark's_ comms station.

"What is it?" he pinged back, confused.

"It's Sunstreaker." Ratchet said simply, his voice tight and controlled. "I need to see you now." Ratchet closed the line.

Sideswipe stammered a half-understood explanation to Prowl, then raced of the Command Deck and down to the med bay. His processor raced over everything that had happened recently. Since Sunstreaker's abduction and the last battle, things had actually begun to settle down on the _Ark._ Things were quieter, much more so, and there hadn't been any big battles in a while. The humans were doing well, and no disasters had crept up that necessitated any Autobot assistance. Sunstreaker had been fine, completely so, after he was repainted and the stiffness in his left leg worked itself out. He hadn't complained of anything in the slightly-more-than-a-month that had passed since then.

Sideswipe really had no idea what to expect when he barreled into the medbay, but it most certainly wasn't the sight of Sunstreaker unconscious on one of the berths with an energon drip line inserted into his arm. His optics boggled, widening and flashing in shock as he raced to his brother's side.

Ratchet appeared at the base of Sunstreaker's berth, tapping a few of the controls to call up a new diagnostic. He reviewed it, lips pressed together firmly before shaking his helm. Sideswipe stared at Ratchet, optics wide and bright before exclaiming, "What the slag is wrong with him?"

Ratchet's optics revealed nothing as his lipplates pressed together. "Come with me," he said simply.

Sideswipe very reluctantly pried himself away from Sunstreaker's side, plodding after Ratchet and into the medic's office. As Ratchet slid the office door shut behind them, Sideswipe finally couldn't take it anymore. "What's going on? Why wont you tell me what's wrong with him, Ratchet? What happened?"

Ratchet stared at Sideswipe hard before crossing to sit behind his desk. "No, Sideswipe," he finally began. "He's not dieing. He's going to be fine. He collapsed earlier." Sideswipe's mouth dropped open. "His energon readings were low. I have him hooked up to a line, and he's fueling and resting."

Sideswipe frowned back to Ratchet. "Why did he collapse?"

Ratchet sighed, his lips pressing together again. He held Sideswipe's gaze, then spoke again. "I need to ask you a few questions, Sideswipe, about your brother. Please, it's important." Sideswipe nodded quickly. "Is your brother seeing anyone? Is he with any mech on the Ark?" Ratchet began, his optics bearing down into Sideswipe.

Sideswipe frowned, not following the sudden shift in the conversation. "What?" he stumbled out, face scrunching up in confusion.

"Your brother is a private mech. If he were seeing anyone on the _Ark_, I'm not sure we all would know about it. He certainly wouldn't say anything when I asked him." Ratchet paused, inhaling slowly. "So I am asking _you_: is Sunstreaker with anyone on the _Ark_?"

Sideswipe felt a slow chill settle over his lines, icy shoots of pain extending outwards from his tanks to encircle his spark. No one, not anyone, on the _Ark_ could know about him and his brother. What they did together wasn't allowed, not at all, and too many mechs wouldn't understand their relationship. They could lose it all, if anyone were to find out.

It was for that reason that they weren't exclusive. They couldn't ever just be together, not in the way Sideswipe wanted to. It still paled, entirely, to what he had with Sunstreaker.

They never discussed it. Sideswipe occasionally spent his nights away from their quarters, and he never asked if Sunstreaker had anyone. There were opportunities, many times when they were entirely separated by shifts, duties, and different socializing events on the _Ark_ where Sunstreaker could have entertained a lover. Sunstreaker hadn't ever before spoke of his partners, and never once had he mentioned anything on the _Ark_.

"I… I don't know, Ratchet," Sideswipe said slowly, breathing in deeply. "Why?"

Ratchet sighed heavily, finally looking down to his hands folded on the desktop surface. He frowned, his optics darkening. "Sideswipe, Sunstreaker has sparked with some mech. He's carrying a sparkling."

Sideswipe's entire world shifted. His vision swam, colors and lights and even sounds becoming streaks as his vents suddenly hitched, suddenly panted too fast as Ratchet's voice played over and over within his processor.

"Sideswipe!" Ratchet's firm voice finally broke through Sideswipe's swirling cacophony of noise and light, bellowing in his faceplates for him to calm down. Reality suddenly zeroed in around Ratchet's faceplates, too quickly, too sharply, and Sideswipe's felt the dizziness in his processor drop to his tanks. He moaned as Ratchet, now kneeling before him, guided his helm to lean down between his knees. "Calm down, Sideswipe," Ratchet breathed. "Don't collapse on me too."

The dizziness finally passed. Ratchet sighed again, then stood gruffly, leaning against the front of his desk. "Do you know when?" Sideswipe asked, his vocalizer shaking.

Ratchet didn't answer for a moment. "Yes," he finally said, tightly. "That's the other thing I need to talk to you about."

Sideswipe felt, suddenly, his world drop out from underneath him. Ratchet's gaze, the assessing, sizing up gaze could only mean one thing.

"It's a about a month along, and I can't help but wonder…" Ratchet's voice trailed off and he inhaled sharply. "I didn't do a full exam on him when he got back. There wasn't any evidence of trauma, and he didn't say anything… but this is _Sunstreaker_, he wouldn't say anything…" Ratchet's voice faded off, still not looking at Sideswipe, who now sat confused, staring upwards at Ratchet and trying to melt himself backwards into the chair.

"Sideswipe," Ratchet began again, turning to stare down at the red twin. "Do you know if the Stunticons assaulted Sunstreaker? Did you see anything, in your quarters?" Ratchet's optics burned, anger, shame and agony at having to ask radiating outwards and pinning Sideswipe to the chair.

Sideswipe's vents shuddered, halting for a long moment. Dual sensations tore through him, elation at Ratchet not knowing their secret, and absolute body-wracking terror at the prospect Ratchet suggested. He didn't think so, hadn't seen anything, and Sunstreaker hadn't said anything… but then again, he didn't know if Sunstreaker really would say anything to him.

Sideswipe shook his helm, slow shakes building in intensity until he was nearly vibrating within the chair. Ratchet swallowed, his expression twisting in pained understanding before dropping down in front of Sideswipe once more. "I'm sorry to ask, Sides…."

A chirp rang out over Ratchet's terminal, and he twisted backwards and read the flashing message. "He's waking up," Ratchet said softly. "I am sure he'll want to see you."

Sideswipe stood shakily, his legs almost giving out beneath him as he followed Ratchet into the medbay. Sunstreaker was awake, his optics online and staring upwards, staring at nothing, while his hands rested over his abdominal plating. Sideswipe gasped, trying to silence the noise he made, though Sunstreaker turned instantly towards the sound. His optics widened, blazing as he caught sight of Sideswipe.

Sideswipe followed Ratchet over to Sunstreaker's berth, his optics never leaving his brother's.

Ratchet flicked at the bag of energon suspended above Sunstreaker's berth, then at the smaller bag also feeding into the drip line. "Your energy levels are still low, Sunny," Ratchet said. "You need the additives in this drip, to make up for what you've been lacking in your rations this past month. If you decide to keep it, you're going to need to start taking these additives every day with your energon."

Ratchet flicked at the bag once more, then moved away. "Get some rest, Sunny," he called back, disappearing into his office and shutting the door, giving the two brothers space to speak.

Sideswipe, still shaking, moved closer to his brother's berth, stopping next to Sunstreaker's helm. Sunstreaker refused to meet his brother's pleading, wide-optic'd gaze, instead stubbornly staring upwards at the ceiling as his hands pressed down firmly on his abdominal plating.

"Ratchet asked me," Sideswipe began, "if the Stunticons had… forced you…" Sideswipe's vocalizer twisted, wrenching his words to a sudden stop. Sunstreaker turned, glaring at him. Sideswipe held his burning gaze, the both of them refusing to move, refusing to react to the other.

Finally, Sunstreaker shook his helm, rolling his helm back against the berth to stare once more at the ceiling. "No," he spat out. "They didn't do anything to me."

Sideswipe let loose a torrent of air, a great heaving gasp he hadn't realized had been locked within. "Whose is it, Sunny?" he whispered.

Sunstreaker didn't move, not for a long moment, though his jaw cables clenched and the gears in his neck rose and fell as he swallowed. He turned back to Sideswipe, his optics cold. "Do you even have to ask?" Sunstreaker whispered, slowly and painfully enunciating each syllable.

Sideswipe refused to let go of Sunstreaker's gaze. His lips quivered as his mouth shook. He tried, and failed, to speak, then finally gripped down on his brother's berth edge, mouthing out the words more than vocalizing speech. "Is it mine?"

Sunstreaker offlined his optics, not able to hold his brother's gaze any longer. He inhaled, not knowing what would happen when he answered, and when everything changed between them.

"Yes."

Sideswipe pitched forward, his helm falling to rest over Sunstreaker's hands, still resting on his abdominal plating over his reproduction chamber and the sparkling, their sparkling, contained within. He offlined his optics, shaky gasps escaping his now pained vents just before Sunstreaker twisted one of his hands off his plating to grip unseen at Sideswipe's hand on the edge of his berth.

Sideswipe squeezed down on his brother's hand fiercely, too tightly and painfully for them both. He rolled his helm, still resting on his brother's torso, and gazed into his brother's perfect faceplates, now edged with fear and panic.

"What are we going to do?" Sideswipe whispered.

"I don't know," Sunstreaker answered honestly, his own vocalizer finally cracking, finally shaking around his words.


	2. Chapter 2

**Unintended Two**

* * *

Ratchet emerged from his office two hours later. Sunstreaker was back in recharge, his helm lolling against the berth as the last of the additives and energon dripped into his lines. Sideswipe sat next to his berth, straddling a chair and staring at his brother with wide, unfocused optics, his helm propped up unsteadily in the palm of his hand.

"You alright?" Ratchet asked Sideswipe.

Sideswipe started, his optics flickering. "I don't know," Sideswipe whispered.

Ratchet keyed up a quick scan of Sunstreaker's vitals at the foot of the berth. "Did you ask him… who it was?"

Sideswipe looked down. He bit down on his lower lip. "It wasn't the Stunticons," Sideswipe finally said. "He wasn't abused."

Ratchet sighed, a mixture of relief and happiness. "He did tell you who though, right?"

Sideswipe swallowed, offlining his optics before speaking again. "I won't betray my brother's confidence, Ratchet. Don't ask me again."

Ratchet nodded, once. The scan of the golden Lambo came up clean, and Ratchet keyed in the last few strokes to bring the twin out of his sedated recharge.

Sunstreaker shifted on the berth, his helm rolling to the opposite side before his optics onlined. Sideswipe stood, standing next to Sunstreaker's helm. "How do you feel?" Ratchet moved to Sideswipe's side, helping Sunstreaker to sit up and steady himself on the berth.

Sunstreaker shook his helm, trying to clear his foggy circuits. The extra energon and the additives had helped fuel his deprived systems. They had slowly bled off their reserves over the past month as his new sparkling began to grow, consuming from his own energon intakes the basic fuel that it needed. "Tired," he said truthfully.

"You'll feel tired until you get your systems back up to par. I'm going to give you more rations and additives. This will get your systems back up to par."

Sunstreaker swallowed hard and nodded. Sideswipe refused to look at Ratchet, instead staring at Sunstreaker's hand where it gripped the berth edge.

"I want to talk to you, Sunny," Ratchet began. "We need to go over some things. How to fuel, the additives you're going to take, how much recharge you're going to need. What's going to change for you." Ratchet's optic ridges rose. "Is there any mech I can comm? Anyone that you want here with you?"

Sunstreaker glared at the medic. "I already told you: no. I don't want anyone else to know," Sunstreaker growled. His optics flashed across to Sideswipe, then flicked down to the deck plating.

"If you keep it Sunny, mechs are eventually going to have to know. I'll have to take you off of combat duty soon. You're going to need more rations that you're allotted now. These things will raise some questions."

"When do you have to take me off of combat duty?"

"Soon, if you decide to keep it." Ratchet folded his arms as Sunstreaker shifted uncomfortably on the berth.

"If I don't decide to keep it?" Sunstreaker's optics dragged upwards to meet Ratchet's.

Ratchet shrugged. "Then there's not much to do, really. We just need to keep your fuel needs up until I surgically remove the sparkling's growth mass and sever the energy line to your spark."

Sideswipe finally spoke up. "Isn't that dangerous? You're messing with his spark, for Primus's sake."

Ratchet turned to Sideswipe. "Well, it's fatal to the sparkling, yes. It's mildly dangerous for Sunstreaker though as well. There are several key complications that could arise during the surgery. But it's not very likely." Ratchet turned back to Sunstreaker. "If you do not want to continue your sparking, then we should surgically remove it as soon as possible."

Sunstreaker held Ratchet's gaze. "I… need to think about that, Ratchet," Sunstreaker grunted.

Ratchet nodded, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the group. Sideswipe shifted, his optics briefly flickering to Sunstreaker as his brother stared at the deck plating. "Ratchet, this wasn't supposed to happen," Sunstreaker suddenly blurted out.

Ratchet started to nod, smiling tightly down at Sunstreaker. "Well, Sunny, when you go and-"

Sunstreaker cut him off. "No, Ratchet. I use… countermeasures. I'm not supposed to be able to spark." Sunstreaker shifted uncomfortably again on the berth, not used to discussing the intimate details of himself with another.

Ratchet frowned. "What kind of countermeasures, Sunstreaker? I've never installed anything."

Sunstreaker shook his helm, briefly meeting Sideswipe's gaze. "No, it's old. I've had it for vorns. It's a ground. I had it implanted… a long time ago."

Ratchet sighed, tilting his helm as he stared at Sunstreaker. He honestly hadn't thought the golden twin had been with any mech, anywhere, in the entire time that he'd known the younger warrior. Sunstreaker was a private mech, nearly obsessively so. The only mech that Sunstreaker had ever reliably protected, cared for, and fought beside with his unique brand of furious battle lust and total concern was his brother.

But since Ratchet hadn't seen Sunstreaker with another mech, he hadn't ever expected this to occur. He certainly didn't expect Sunstreaker to have any countermeasures installed.

"It must have stopped functioning," Ratchet murmured, frowning behind his words. "I'll need to do some checks on that, Sunny. You could be badly injured if it misfires."

Sunstreaker stared at Ratchet. Sideswipe huffed beside the medic. "How can you check? How can you make sure that they'll be alright?"

"I'll need to do an endoscopic ultrasound and then map the electrical waves, Sunny."

"When do you want to do that?" Sunstreaker asked as Sideswipe glanced nervously at him.

"As soon as possible. This afternoon, if you'll let me."

Sunstreaker nodded. Ratchet turned to face Sideswipe, the red twin's optics locked on his brother.

"Sides, there's not much more here for you. Sunny will only be a little longer." Ratchet nodded to Sideswipe, effectively dismissing him from the medbay as he turned back to Sunstreaker on the medberth. Sunstreaker lay back down gingerly, staring up at the ceiling and refusing to look at Sideswipe while Ratchet set up another drip line of sedatives into his arm.

Sideswipe paused at the doorway, staring at the long lines of his brother's body with a sinking, terrible feeling settle into his tanks.

* * *

Sideswipe didn't know how he made it to the Rec Room, but suddenly he was standing in front of the energon dispenser, reaching for a cube, and Prowl was at his shoulder.

"How's Sunstreaker?" Prowl asked.

Sideswipe started, dropping his cube to the ground as he gasped in shock. The purple energon flew through the air, spattering the bulkhead and both his and Prowl's legs.

"Frag!" Sideswipe muttered angrily. "I'm sorry, Prowl. I didn't mean to ... You're all covered in... I'm sorry." Sideswipe's words were jerking and nervous as he shoved the empty cube back into the dispenser, then turned to leave.

Prowl followed, not speaking again until they were out of the crowded Rec Room and in the empty _Ark_ corridor. "Sideswipe, what's wrong?"

Sideswipe stopped, stilling as he schooled his features back to their normal, cheery blankness and turned to face Prowl. "Nothing's wrong, Prowl," he grinned, entirely fake. "Sunny's fine. Just wasn't fueling enough." Sideswipe tried for his characteristic lopsided smirk.

Prowl's optics ridges rose. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Of course!"

Sideswipe turned, moving down the corridor and away from Prowl, though he still felt the tactician's optics boring into his back. Out of all the mechs, in all the _Ark_, it had to be Prowl to ask him how he was doing. He could lie to anyone else, but Prowl always knew when he was lying off his skidplate.

How could this have happened? Sideswipe started gasping, panting as he worked himself into a frenzy again as he poured over all the possibilities and nightmares that this situation presented. He fumbled at their keypad, depressing the numbers to their locking code correctly on the third try and stumbling into their quarters.

Sideswipe slumped backward against the sealed enclosure. His feet gave out, and he slid down to the decking in a ragged heap, his pants now interspersed with tiny, audible gasps. "Sunny…" he whispered.

Sideswipe hadn't felt anything wrong with Sunstreaker at all during the past month. His brother had seemed fine, normal, healthy, even perhaps happy, as happy as Sunstreaker ever let anyone know he was. Sideswipe had thought everything was fine right up until Ratchet had pinged him over the comm.

Sideswipe pushed himself to his feet, gasping around the pain as he crossed their quarters. Sunstreaker's berth was on the left. He stared at it, his optics unfocusing as he remembered their last time together. Sunstreaker had let him hold him, let him cherish him afterwards, and Sideswipe had been elated. They spent all night holding each other, Sideswipe cradling his brother close to him uninterrupted and entirely delighted.

His fingers traced over the end of the berth lightly before Sideswipe pulled himself down onto the surface. His brother was all over it, his polishes, his waxes, the scent that was so indefinably Sunstreaker as much a part of the berth as it was a part of his twin. Sideswipe splayed out, rubbing his helm and faceplates against the cold metal.

He _loved_ his brother. He loved his brother far, far too much. Sunstreaker was an arrogant glitch, a horribly moody, generally inconsiderate, selfish slagger, but he was the light in Sideswipe's life. Sideswipe curled himself tighter on his brother's berth, tucking his helm into the crook of his arm. He loved his brother. If they lived in a different world, he would do everything he could to be with him.

They didn't live in that world, though. Sideswipe had had to hide his feelings not just from every other mech, but from Sunstreaker as well.

Fate was horrifically cruel. Here they were, parents now to a sparkling they didn't want, had never planned for, never intended to have. It was the ultimate betrayal of their relationship, the fruit of their forbidden union. Sideswipe couldn't deny that he wanted it, just a little bit. He wanted it, because it was his, and because it was Sunstreaker's. It was _theirs_. It was proof positive of their love, something that couldn't be tucked away or hidden.

It was impossible. It couldn't happen. No matter how much he might want to see what this could turn out to be. It tore at his insides when Ratchet had asked if he could call 'another mech,' asking for the other parent to be present for the conversation. Sideswipe wanted to jump up and down and shout aloud that Sunstreaker was _his_, that he was the parent, that the sparkling inside of Sunstreaker was theirs… but he couldn't.

Sunstreaker was no more 'his' than he'd ever, never been.

Sideswipe rolled himself over again, burying his faceplates in the berth and inhaling Sunstreaker's scent once more before he began to tremble.

* * *

It took Sunstreaker a long time to come out from Ratchet's sedation drip after the endoscopic ultrasound. Ratchet had gone through all the images and data from the procedure before Sunstreaker had woken up, and was able to tell Sunstreaker that he and his sparkling were in no danger from the ground in his valve. It had apparently been damaged and separated from all electrical access during his injuries with the Stunticons. Since Ratchet hadn't known about it, he hadn't looked to see if it was damaged while he repaired Sunstreaker's lower abdomen.

Sunstreaker received an arched optic ridge for that, and a stare that equated to a mild scolding, but Ratchet was feeling particularly generous today. Sunstreaker was already reaping the rewards of his failure to notify Ratchet of one crucial medical device and implantation.

Ratchet had asked one more time if there was any way that Sunstreaker would consider telling the other parent. Sunstreaker had still been slightly woozy and had only grumbled at the medic angrily instead of snapping viciously at him to mind his own business. Ratchet helped Sunstreaker sit up while he fixed a cube of energon and showed him how to add the special additives of ores, nutrients, and minerals that would help his sparkling to grow off of his internals. They would be sharing metals soon, his sparkling leeching off his frame to grow inside him while the additives worked to both salve and add to his internals.

Sunstreaker refueled slowly, taking his time with the thick, rich energon while Ratchet continued to talk to him about growth stages, electrical activity, metal massing, and circuitry coding. Sunstreaker listened for only a short while before tuning the medic out. Ratchet left him alone shortly after, leaving him to drink his energon in solitude.

Later, Ratchet helped Sunstreaker off the berth, then escorted him to the doorway. He paused at the entrance, just before the doors slid open, and turned to the golden twin. "Sunstreaker," Ratchet began. "I don't know the details of what happened, and I'm sure you're never going to tell me. But that doesn't matter." Ratchet's gaze pierced into Sunstreaker's. "I want you to know that you can come to me, anytime, for anything. I can't imagine what you're feeling… I just want you to know that I'm here for you."

Sunstreaker nodded stiffly. Ratchet reached out and squeezed the golden warrior's shoulder, trying to pass along some measure of comfort and support to the twin who just had his world completely torn asunder.

Sunstreaker began the slow trudge back to his and Sideswipe's quarters. He hadn't the faintest idea what he was going to say to his brother.


	3. Chapter 3

**Unintended Three**

* * *

Sideswipe was still curled up on Sunstreaker's berth when Sunstreaker palmed his way into their quarters. Sideswipe started, jolted from his maudlin memories as Sunstreaker crossed their quarters to his berth.

"What are you doing in my berth, Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker's voice was hard and deep.

Sideswipe stared up at his brother. He had spent the last several hours immersed in the past, reliving the happy memories of his and Sunstreaker's earlier years. All Sideswipe wanted was to collapse into Sunstreaker's arm, clinging tight as he let the world and all their problems fall away. He swallowed, utterly terrified of what they had to face.

"We can't keep it," Sideswipe blurted out. "We can't."

"Get out of my berth," Sunstreaker growled.

Sideswipe finally shifted, rolling to his side and sitting up as Sunstreaker sank down next to him, a healthy distance away. "We can't…" Sideswipe whispered again, glancing sidelong at his brother.

Sunstreaker leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. "I know," he snapped. "You think I don't know that?"

Sideswipe buried his face in his hands. "Oh, Primus, Sunny… How did this happen?"

"I wonder, Sideswipe. I wonder how this happened." Sunstreaker's voice was thick with sarcasm and bitter ire.

"I didn't think this could happen," Sideswipe breathed.

"Well it has."

"We can't keep it," Sideswipe whispered again. He needed to convince himself, needed to repeat the words over and over. If he let himself think about this possibility, if he let himself think that they could have this, could live this life together happily, he'd break down entirely. He'd lose it all.

Sunstreaker's jaw cables clenched. He exploded. "I _know_! I fragging _know_, Sideswipe! You don't need to keep telling me! I _know_ that this is the worst thing that could have ever happened to us!"

Sideswipe shrank back. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He suddenly couldn't stand to be there any longer. The pressures, the cloying darkness of their secret and its consequences all swirled around his spark and processor. Sideswipe couldn't breath. He had to escape. He had to flee.

He fled, escaping into the _Ark_. His processor swam as he raced through the hallway, not seeing the passing mechs or their cheery, happy greetings. His breath came in harsh, rapid pants and all he wanted to do was to turn around and bury himself in the berth with Sunstreaker.

Sideswipe ducked into the Rec Room, sighing in relief as he found it empty. His angry pace slowed, and he idly crossed the room until he was able to collapse down onto the large couch.

He was sure, dead sure, that Prowl was suspicious of something. Prowl was _always_ suspicious of something, especially when it involved him, and though Sideswipe found that intriguing and thrilling when he was planning his next newest prank, having Prowl try to discover and decode what was currently happening would be terrible. He couldn't save Sunstreaker from the consequences of that… and he'd have no one to blame but himself.

The thought of another cube was tempting, but he was just too tired. He was too tired to get up, too tired to go back to their quarters, and far, far too tired to face the music, as it were. Sunstreaker was furious, at him, at the situation, at everything he'd ever been angry at, and Sideswipe, instead of being able to reach out to him and draw him close in comfort, was shoved far away and all on his own.

Sideswipe leaned his helm backwards on the couch and offlined his optics. His legs stretched out in front of him as he tried to put it all out of his mind, just for a moment. His breathing leveled out, deepening as he sat still and quiet, and the exhaustion finally overtook his frame, pulling him into recharge.

* * *

"Sides? You alright?"

Sideswipe shook his helm, trying to shake off the intruder that was disrupting his recharge. He grunted, waving his arm in front of his face as he tried to bat away whomever was trying to wake him up.

"Whoa! Calm down, Siders!" Sideswipe grunted, then blearily onlined his optics as the familiar voice of Smokescreen finally registered in his processor. Smokescreen smiled down at Sideswipe.

Sideswipe pulled himself upright, moaning slightly as his joints and cables protested their unnatural recharge position. He finally acknowledged Smokescreen with a small grunt as he lifted a hand to rub at his aching neck cables.

"Did you recharge in here, Sides?" Smokescreen crossed back over to the couch with two cubes, handing one to Sideswipe.

Sideswipe smiled gratefully as he took it. "No, just couldn't really initiate in my quarters. I've only been here a few hours. What time is it?"

"0500." Smokescreen took a small sip of his cube as Sideswipe froze. "What time did you get here?"

"I don't know, it was late," Sideswipe tried to quickly lie. It had been late, but it hadn't been that late. "Thanks for waking me." Sideswipe forced a small smile as he crossed back over to the energon dispenser to grab a cube for his brother.

Smokescreen tilted his helm, watching Sideswipe. He'd nurtured a small crush on Sideswipe for nearly the entire time he'd known him. It was hard to not like Sideswipe. He was fun, friendly, and warm to everyone. He was also impossible to pin down.

"Are you ready for the big ceremony today?" Smokescreen tried to keep a small conversation going as Sideswipe grabbed the new cube for his brother.

Sideswipe quirked his helm towards Smokescreen. "Don't tell me you forgot!" Smokescreen teased. "The change of command? The handover of responsibilities? We're transferring complete responsibility for Earth's security and protection from the Decepticons back to the humans today? Ring a bell?"

Sideswipe groaned, offlining his optics as his helm fell backwards. Of course… he had entirely forgotten, what with the sparkling and Sunstreaker's condition and all. This was the big day they had been waiting for for years. "I thought that was tomorrow," Sideswipe finally quipped, flashing a small smirk across to Smokescreen. "Thanks for reminding me."

Smokescreen smiled. "Anytime! I'll remind you when we end the war, too."

"Hey thanks! That's what good friends are for!" Sideswipe smiled finally for the first time since the hearing the news in the medbay yesterday.

"Sides?" Smokescreen called after him.

Sideswipe turned. Smokescreen continued on. "Blue got some new games in a shipment a couple days ago. Some of them are multiplayer. We were going to have a big gaming party tonight in his quarters if you want to come." Smokescreen waited, hopeful.

"Sounds great, Smokey. I'll definitely be there. It'll be good to just relax for a bit."

Smokescreen smiled back, though it was overly perplexed. "You sure you're alright, Sides?" Not much had been going on recently. Smokescreen thought Sideswipe would have welcomed the games as a distraction from boredom rather than a chance to get away and relax. He'd been mildly surprised that Prowl hadn't quietly ordered Bluestreak to invite Sideswipe as a matter of course, in order to keep the _Ark_ free from pranks and general deviousness.

"I'm fine, Smokey. See you tonight!"

Sideswipe's hands were nearly shaking by the time he walked back to their quarters. Part of him knew he was being ridiculous. They had already talked about this, for Primus's sake. They had already decided on what they were going to do. There was nothing more to be said.

Still, Sideswipe didn't want to face Sunstreaker.

Sideswipe palmed his way into their dark and silent quarters. Sunstreaker was offline on his berth, still in recharge. Sideswipe sighed in relief, then sat down on their own smaller couch.

His optics landed on an unfamiliar assortment of items on the small table in front of their couch. A series of small metal tubules were stacked on the tabletop along with a data pad. Sideswipe picked up one of the tubules, shaking it slightly. A finely ground powder floated by the clear opening in the metal.

Sideswipe frowned, then picked up the data pad. Sunstreaker had apparently been reading up. The scroll was halfway down the text, and the information was entirely related to sparkling growth. Sideswipe quickly set the pad down. That was something he did not need to read, not if he wanted to stay sane right now. His attention turned once again to the metal vial in his hands. These must be the additives Ratchet had told them both about.

Sideswipe pulled the cube he had grabbed for Sunstreaker closer, then onlined the data pad once more. He scrolled to the top quickly, scanning over the headings for energon supplements and ore additives. He found it after only a moment, and was happily relieved to see that that bit at least was uncomplicated. _'Pour one tubule of ore additives into one cube of energon at each rationing for the first three quarters of the sparkling's gestation…'_ Sideswipe nodded, resolutely pushing any feelings on the matter of the sparkling from his processor and burying them in his spark. These ores weren't going just to the sparkling. They were going to Sunstreaker as well. He needed to keep his strength up until the sparkling was terminated.

Sideswipe removed the seal from the tubule and poured the additives into the cube. They shimmered as they reacted, then swirled together as Sideswipe gently shook the cube around. He peered at it, but nothing seemed to have settled on the bottom. The color had turned, changing from a light iridescent sheen to a deeply rich magenta. Sideswipe hoped it wasn't foul tasting, for Sunstreaker's sake.

Sunstreaker shifted on his berth, moaning slightly in recharge. Sideswipe sighed, then checked his chronometer. Now that he knew what day it actually was, and just what they would be doing, he was glad Smokescreen had woken him up when he did. Both he and Sunstreaker, and the rest of the _Ark_, had to be ready to go for the ceremony promptly at 0700.

It was almost 0600 now. Sideswipe sighed and crossed over to Sunstreaker's berth. Carefully, he sat on the edge, barely resting his weight down on the berth that had once been so familiar to him. "Sunny?" he whispered, reaching out to gently squeeze his brother's arm. "I brought you your energon."

Sunstreaker grumbled, then dragged himself from recharge. For a moment, their gazes met, and Sideswipe didn't see any of the blame, anger, or resentment that had clouded his brother's optics the night before. They were merely tired, seemingly exhausted, and Sideswipe tried to shift closer. "Here. I made your energon for you."

Sunstreaker glared at him before taking the cube in his hands.

"Is everything alright, Sunny? You seem…" His voice faded off as Sunstreaker threw him a fierce, ugly glare over his energon cube.

Sideswipe looked away. Sunstreaker's wrath clearly had not dissipated throughout the night. "The change of command ceremony is today. We need to be on the command deck at 0700." Sideswipe heard Sunstreaker curse behind him, then clamber off his berth. The energon cube, barely touched, was left on their berthside table.

"Why didn't you wake me sooner?" Sunstreaker growled as he brushed past Sideswipe on his way out of their quarters. He only had an hour to clean up and make himself ready before they were all in the spotlight.

Sideswipe's helm rolled backwards helplessly as Sunstreaker disappeared through the door.

* * *

The ceremony started promptly at 0700. At exactly 0728, Sunstreaker collapsed.

The ceremony had been rolling along, normally and incredibly boring, as far as Sideswipe was concerned. Prowl and Ironhide were in their element, commanding the Autobots on the _Ark_ in official formations and presentations as their images were displayed via live vidfeed to Washington DC.

The tide had turned in the Earth warfront two years prior. It was a technological breakthrough, and one that Wheeljack had been working tirelessly with the human scientists on for years. The humans had finally managed to perfect the means to cut off the Decepticon's space bridge transportation drive before it initiated by deploying a defensive shield of satellites in orbit. The satellites formed a net, pinning the Decepticons to Earth and finally allowed the combined forces of the Autobots and the humans to go on the offensive.

They had formed the Autobot-Earth Military Alliance then, led by the US and UK militaries, but joined by all. It was a harbinger of the first of several worldly cooperative measures, previously unforeseen by the political pundits of the world. The first whispers of Earth regaining command control in the conflict with the Decepticons began shortly after, and Prime was more than willing to listen to their proposals.

As they beat the Decepticons back further, the humans gained more strength and confidence. They began to lead, then devise their own attack strategies against the Decepticon cells still hiding and operating on Earth. Most of the Decepticons had to separate, run to ground, and bury themselves from the humans and the Autobot search and destroy missions.

Prime was delighted with the humans' progress. They had never wanted to fight on Earth, and Prime fully believed that the sovereignty of the native peoples of a planet was paramount to any ongoing political feud by exiled alien armies. He eagerly helped develop the new world-wide military protocols for combating the Decepticons, and moved to DC on a near-permanent basis to do so.

Prowl and Ironhide were in _de facto_ command of the _Ark_, along with Jazz. Most of their battles and engagements with the Decepticons lately had been centered on failed raids and surprise attacks. The only unique attack that broke that pattern had been Megatron's personal engagement with what was left of his core group of Decepticons on their patrol last month.

Prowl still muttered about that, and about the possible motivations behind such an odd occurrence.

Despite that battle, and Sunstreaker's injuries that had then led them down the twisted path to _this_, the plan to transfer combat control from the Autobots to the humans was proceeding as planned.

And this was The Day.

The US President made a long speech, followed by the UN President. Demonstrations and videos were played, showcasing the combined human forces against the Decepticons, as well as the joint efforts from the year prior of the joint human-Autobot strike teams. Those had long since been disbanded, and Sideswipe was quietly thankful for that.

Prime was just about to speak, and Prowl had recalled all the Autobots to attention from their at-ease when Sunstreaker pitched forwards, slumping gracelessly out of formation and nearly falling to the ground. Sideswipe lunged, grabbing at his offline body and hefting him into his arms.

The commotion in the ranks caused a stir, and Bluestreak, Hound, and Blaster were the closest mechs who tried to help. Prowl instantly crossed the deck as well, concerne and annoyance sketched across his face.

Sideswipe didn't want to meet Prowl's gaze. He'd already told Prowl that nothing was wrong with Sunstreaker the day before. He didn't want to have to lie again. He wasn't sure Prowl would truly believe him this time anyways.

Ratchet fell out formation and raced to Sideswipe's side. He met the three of them, Sideswipe still holding Sunstreaker cradled close, and Prowl, looking concerned and irritated all at once, at the far side of the command deck and away from the vid feed. The rest of the Autobots were trying not to look like they weren't paying any attention at all to Prime.

"What's going on, Ratchet?" Prowl asked, his voice tight and thin.

Ratchet didn't answer, instead running several private scans over Sunstreaker's limp body. He looked up, meting Sideswipe's worried optics with his own frown. "We need to get him to the medbay."

"Is it serious?" Prowl asked, escorting the three from the deck.

Ratchet shook his helm. Sideswipe said nothing, didn't even look in Prowl's direction. He couldn't. His optics and his expression would give his panic away.

"He's having recharge problems, Prowl. That's all." Ratchet grabbed Sideswipe by the arm and hurriedly began to move both twins down the corridor towards the medbay.

Prowl watched them go, not moving to rejoin the ceremony until they had all passed out of sight.

"I _told_ you both that Sunstreaker needed to fuel up and get his recharge on schedule!" Ratchet snapped to Sideswipe as the entered the medbay. "He hasn't had any energon at all this morning!"

Sideswipe frowned as he laid his brother's unconscious body on the berth. "I made him a cube! I poured the additives in and everything!"

Ratchet spiked a fresh bag of energon and pulled a smaller bag of liquid-suspended ore additives from a drawer under the berth. "Did he drink any of it?"

"No."

Ratchet frowned as the terminal finished the preliminary scans of Sunstreaker's body. "Did he recharge at all last night?" Ratchet glared. "Did you two listen to _anything_ I said yesterday?"

"I thought he recharged…" Sideswipe's voice trailed off as Ratchet growled.

"You thought wrong." Ratchet fixed the spike into Sunstreaker's line. "I don't want to be spiking your brother every day. It's not good for him, or for the sparkling."

"He'll be alright, right Ratch'?" Sideswipe asked. His finger stretched out, stroking along the index finger on Sunstreaker's yellow hand.

Ratchet nodded, glaring at Sideswipe. "You need to keep on your brother about his health. It's not just him now. He has a sparkling to worry about. He can't run himself into the ground." Ratchet shook his helm tiredly. "I'd normally tell the other parent to help out, but…"

Sideswipe's tanks heaved, somersaulting within his body. "I'll do it," Sideswipe choked out. "I'll help him."

Ratchet finally smiled at Sideswipe. "You're a good brother, Sides." Sideswipe tried to smile, he truly did, but the effect was much more of a mutated grimace than anything else. Ratchet took pity on him. "I know this was probably the last thing you ever expected…"

"You've got that right," Sideswipe whispered.

Ratchet checked Sunstreaker's vitals and readouts one more time. "I'm going back to the ceremony, Sides. You should stay with your brother. He's in forced recharge now, but he'll wake up soon. Take him back to your quarters and put him back into his berth. Keep him there." Sideswipe nodded. As if anything could tear him from Sunstreaker's side.

"Sunstreaker is going to need you right now, Sideswipe. I know it will be difficult, but…" Ratchet voice trailed off.

"I wont leave him," Sideswipe croaked. "I'll help him… with whatever he needs." Sideswipe swallowed. "Whatever he wants."

Ratchet smiled up at the red twin. He didn't speak, simply nodded, then finally - blissfully - left them alone.

Sideswipe sank down into one of the visitor chairs at Sunstreaker's berthside. He stared at his brother for a long time, then finally slumped forward and rested his forehelm on the edge of the berth. His optics offlined once more, and he joined his brother in recharge after only a few minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Unintended 4**

* * *

Sunstreaker stayed in forced recharge for the rest of the morning.

Sideswipe stayed right next to him, also recharging in a graceless slump with his helm pressed against his brother's medberth. He hadn't had the most restful night in the Rec Room, and his joints and cables were still protesting the contortion he had managed on the couch. He finally onlined just after noon.

His brother's hand was draped over the base of his helm, and his fingers were splayed out along the back of his neck. Sideswipe sleepily raised his helm, his optics fuzzy as he stared at his brother.

Sunstreaker was just onlining as well. The forced recharge gave him enough rest to come online for a little while, but it was only enough time to get back into recharge on his own. His systems were still lacking from the entire month that he'd gone without the energon, additives and recharge necessary to his condition. He would need to be extra vigilant now, in order to get back into and then stay at optimum condition. Sunstreaker grumbled, his optics dim as Sideswipe moved around to his brother's side. He was too exhausted to move, too exhausted to think straight. Sideswipe's careful hands rolled his arm over and began pulling at the spikes in his lines. Sunstreaker groaned at the feeling.

"C'mon Sunny…" Sideswipe whispered. "Let's get you back to our quarters…" He reached out, helping Sunstreaker sit up. He tossed his brother's arm around his shoulders. Sunstreaker grumbled, but still said nothing as he slid off the medberth. He stumbled slightly before Sideswipe steadied him with his other hand, briefly pressing Sunstreaker closer to his body.

Their trip back to their quarters was slow and uneventful. Sideswipe held his brother close and Sunstreaker leaned into him. It was the second time in a month that Sideswipe had carried his brother back from the medbay like this. He didn't like it.

Sideswipe led Sunstreaker over to his berth, then carefully lowered him down onto the flat surface. Sunstreaker was nearly offline again, already slipping back into recharge. Sideswipe spied the old energon cube on their berthside table. He grabbed a new one and filled the cube with additives before bringing it back over to Sunstreaker. His brother was offline, and he was splayed out in a wide, disorganized slump across the surface.

"Sunny?" Sideswipe whispered. "You need to drink this."

Sunstreaker finally onlined, rolling his helm back over to stare sleepily at Sideswipe. Sideswipe held the cube out, and Sunstreaker stared for only a moment before he took it and, rolling onto his side, began to drink.

Sunstreaker finally finished the cube and pushed it back into Sideswipe's hand. In the time it took Sideswipe to turn and set it on their berthside table, Sunstreaker was deep in recharge.

* * *

Prowl was suspicious.

Something was going on with the twins. When it came to those two, Prowl was always suspicious of something.

Everything had been normal since that odd attack of Megatron's and Sunstreaker's subsequent capture. Everything had been rolling along smoothly, and Prowl, Prime, and Ironhide had been hipplates-deep in preparations for the handover of command and control responsibilities to the humans.

Until yesterday. Sideswipe had been lolling his way through his day shift at comms when the call came from Ratchet to get down to the medbay quickly. Sideswipe was worried, very clearly so, and was only ever that worried if Sunstreaker were gravely wounded. If something was wrong with the golden twin, then Sideswipe's world and everything in it would stop. Prowl thought back to when Sunstreaker had been captured, and how utterly consumed Sideswipe had been with rescuing him, first on his own, and then in a blazing hail of Autobot fire.

Sideswipe didn't come back to the Command Deck for the rest of his shift. Prowl had placed a call to Ratchet, asking if everything was alright with the twins, but Ratchet had hastily talked him off the line, saying only that Sunstreaker was going through "recharge problems," and that yes, Sideswipe was still there with him.

Then Sunstreaker had collapsed during the change of command ceremony. Sideswipe and Ratchet had hustled him away quickly, and Sideswipe hadn't met his gaze. _That_, more than anything else, had told him that something serious was going on with their golden twin. Ratchet had returned to the ceremony less than an hour after leaving, _sans_ twins.

Prowl turned down the _Ark's_ corridor, then punched the control for the lift. He had been consumed with the ongoing business of the change of command. Ironically enough, now that they had officially transferred command control to the humans, they were now busier than before, what with all the pageantry, diplomacy, and public relations efforts being extended. His day had been overfull with scheduling and following up on their myriad engagements over the next several months, along with vidfeed meetings with Prime to coordinate the continued sharing of intelligence and information amongst the allies.

It had been a long, tiring afternoon, and the twins had been in the back of his processor for all of it. He was headed down to see Ratchet, and hopefully to get some answers.

Prowl palmed his way into the medbay. Ratchet was tucked into his office, glaring at his terminal and entirely unaware of Prowl's entry.

"Can I speak with you, Ratchet?" Prowl spoke loudly at the doorway to Ratchet's office, dually signally his arrival and allowing Ratchet to close whatever private medical file he had open before he entered.

Ratchet started, jumping before he turned toward Prowl. He hastily offlined his terminal display, shutting out the information feed as Prowl stepped inside.

"What can I do for you, Prowl?" Ratchet peered at the SIC over his desk.

"I'm here about Sunstreaker,"

"What about him?" Ratchet smoothly asked.

"Is he all right?"

"You know I cannot reveal any information about my patient's medical concerns or treatments to an uninvolved third party." Ratchet's hands crossed over each other, his long fingers interlacing.

"As his commanding officer, I am an involved and interested third party," Prowl said. He waited for any hint or sign from the medic that would give away what was truly going on.

"As his commanding officer, you are neither 'interested' nor 'involved' until his condition impairs his working performance or combat ability." Ratchet held Prowl's intense gaze as Prowl's doorwings twitched.

"There is something the matter with him, then? This… 'recharge problem' that somehow has Sideswipe spooked out of his armor?"

Ratchet sighed. "Sunstreaker was extremely low on energy and recharge this morning at formation. That's why he collapsed. As long as he manages his recharge and his energon intake, he'll be fine."

"Why is this a problem now? What has changed?"

"I cannot speak to that." Sunstreaker had yet to decide his course of action regarding his sparkling, and Ratchet wasn't about to share that information with Prowl. Not just yet. If he kept it, then Prowl would know soon enough. If not... Prowl never needed to know.

Prowl's optic ridges arched high, disappearing beneath the edges of his chevron and helm. "I trust you will keep the command apprised of his situation."

"Only if you need to know."

* * *

One moment, Sideswipe was curled around his brother and holding him in recharge. The next, he was being viciously shoved away from Sunstreaker's body and off of the berth.

Sideswipe yelped as he crashed to the floor. His optics onlined just in time to see Sunstreaker glaring down at him. "Sunny!" Sideswipe exclaimed.

"What the frag are you doing?" Sunstreaker voice was back to being cold, harsh, and angry.

Sideswipe pushed himself up. "I was just recharging with you, Sunny!"

Sunstreaker growled. "Don't ever touch me again."

Sideswipe sighed, his shoulder joints slumping. Slowly, he picked himself up off the ground as Sunstreaker rolled away, putting a healthy distance between them. He spotted the empty energon cube he had hastily dropped on the berthside table. A quick check of his chronometer showed that they had been recharging for most of the afternoon. It was nearly time for the evening energon ration.

His trek to the Rec Room was uneventful. Sideswipe waved to Bluestreak and Hound at the corner table as he made his way over to the energon dispenser. He was able to snag two cubes and depart quickly, not lingering to chat or sit with any mechs. Sideswipe skirted past Prowl in the corridor, and he forced a smile to his faceplate as he passed the silent SIC. Sideswipe kept on walking, pushing past Prowl, and made his way quickly back to their quarters. He only paused briefly before he palmed their door open.

Sunstreaker was sitting up, his back resting against the bulkhead at the head of his berth. His optics were dim, and he seemed as if he were lost in thought, dazed and letting his processor wander. His optics snapped back to focus as Sideswipe walked in, then narrowed to slits as Sideswipe drew closer.

Sideswipe snagged a tube of ore additives from their front table as he walked by. He slowly worked the top off, then dropped the additives into Sunstreaker's fresh cube. The hiss, the small fizz of the additives reacting and merging with the energon, was overloud in the silent, frosty room. He paused, inhaling slightly before turning to hand his brother the freshly prepared cube.

Sunstreaker slapped his hand away, knocking the cube from his grip and sending it flying through the air before it crashed into the bulkhead. Energon sprayed everywhere.

Sideswipe froze. He stared at his brother with wide, shocked optics, his mouth frozen in a small, surprised 'o.' Sunstreaker's angry sneer held his gaze, and the golden twin finally spoke. "I don't want anything from you, Sideswipe."

"I'm just trying to help, Sunny…" Sideswipe's words were confused whispers, ghosting over his lips. "I'm worried…"

Sunstreaker snorted. "I don't want your _help_!" Sunstreaker glared at Sideswipe as he spat out his angry words, ignoring the darkening of Sideswipe's optics. "Or your _worry_. _Don't_ worry, brother, our secret won't get out," Sunstreaker added, his lips twisting bitterly around the words.

The first curl of anger tore through Sideswipe. He hadn't let himself feel angry, not yet, and certainly not toward his brother. Sunstreaker was just as much a victim of their precarious circumstances as he was. He was angry at him now though. "Why are you being like this, Sunny?" Sideswipe kicked the dropped cube across their quarters, streaking a line of energon along the decking as it skittered away. "What the slag is wrong with you?"

Sunstreaker's sneer turned frigid as his gaze pierced Sideswipe, still not speaking. Sideswipe tried to search his optics, tried to reach out for something, anything, from his brother.

All he received for his efforts was a venom-filled gaze and a cold, shut-out spark.

"Fine," Sideswipe spat back at his brother. He slammed the second cube back down on the berthside table. It only took him seven steps to cross their quarters to the door, and he left without looking back.

It unnerved him that he felt Sunstreaker's optics on his backplates the whole way.

* * *

"Go! Go!" Smokescreen loudly cheered Bluestreak on from behind the small couch in Bluestreak's quarters. Bluestreak was helm to helm with Mirage, who had a surprising fondness and passion for video games. The two were hunched forward, furiously working the controls on their handhelds as the human war game played out on Bluestreak's flatscreen.

"Watch out!" Hound, cheered on Mirage next to Smokescreen. Smokescreen snorted and shoved playfully at Hound's shoulder as Mirage evaded Bluestreak's sneak attack.

Smokescreen optics drifted to the far wall. Sideswipe slouched one shoulder against the wall in a careless slump. He had been watching the games for some time now, set apart from the rest of the gang. Sideswipe had been in a quiet mood when he'd arrived, and had waved off everyone's cheerful greetings as he slid over to the far wall. His lips curled up into a small smile as he watched the rowdy matches unfold, but he was still far away, lost in thought. Now, his optics seemed to stare right through the TV, and Smokescreen wasn't entirely sure he was even aware of where he was.

Smokescreen sidled up to Sideswipe's side, then tucked himself against the wall right next to the red twin. He accidentally on purpose jostled the frontliner's elbow. "Sorry, Siders," he mumbled with a smile.

Sideswipe jerked. His optics shifted, and he stared down at Smokescreen's sudden appearance right next to him. After a moment, he smiled right back. "Hey, Smokey."

Smokescreen smiled. "How are you doing?" He shifted, sliding his body closer to Sideswipe as his voice dropped.

"I'm alright," Sideswipe nodded, turning towards Smokescreen as the games continued around them. He smiled. "Thanks for inviting me tonight."

"Of course. We all wanted you here." Smokescreen paused. "I'm glad you came, too."

Sideswipe met Smokescreen's optics, hesitating. There was a brief commotion over the game as Bluestreak unleashed a series of attacks on Mirage. Mirage gritted his denta and furiously depressed the buttons on his controller, trying in vain to stay alive. Hound continued to shout from behind, cheering Mirage on.

Smokescreen watched Sideswipe laugh at the game and at Mirage's increasing facial gymnastics. Bluestreak finally dispatched Mirage, and he threw his hands up into the air, pumping his fists as he whooped. Mirage chucked his controller at Bluestreak's head as Hound grabbed his shoulders.

Smokescreen nudged Sideswipe with his elbow. "Want to play?"

Sideswipe uncoiled a dangerous, flirtatious smirk. "You think you can take me?"

"I've taken you before." Smokescreen winked.

Sideswipe hook his helm as his gaze turned heated. He pressed his lips together, holding his smile back. Smokescreen's grin just grew.

"Come on," Sideswipe loudly shooed Bluestreak and Mirage away as Smokescreen moved to join him.

Smokescreen's doorwings quivered as Sideswipe's optics traveled slowly over the length of his body just before he tossed the second controller into his hands.

* * *

The soft knocking at their door startled Sunstreaker out of his silent reverie. He inhaled, then hollered at his visitor. "It's unlocked!"

A moment later, their door slid open, and Ratchet nervously peered into the twin's shared quarters.

Sunstreaker stared back silently.

"Hi," Ratchet finally said. "Can I come in?"

Sunstreaker tossed the now-offline pad onto the table. He'd been reading it when he had zoned out an hour ago. He was far too distracted and still tired, despite feeling like all he was doing was recharging. Sunstreaker glared at Ratchet, but nodded.

Ratchet slowly stepped into the twin's quarters. He had never been there before, and it seemed strange to see Sunstreaker in his relaxed home-like state. His optics wandered over the simple shared room; two berths instead of one, bunked right next to each other, a small couch and table, and an Earth flat screen television. The US government had offered the screens to the Autobots for a joint tactical mission center, but the technologies hadn't interfaced with Teletraan 1 at the right speeds. The displays were too slow to be useful in any sort of mission. However, the screens were a gift, and now they belonged to the _Ark_. It was, surprisingly, Red Alert who first figured out that the screens could be adapted with Teletraan for their lower end visual displays, and he'd quietly tried to collect them all for his security feeds. Jazz and Bluestreak joined forces and put an end to that plot.

Sunstreaker stared at Ratchet, waiting for the medic to speak. Ratchet's optics briefly met Sunstreaker's, then drifted over the table in front of the golden twin's couch. A barely touched cube of energon sat next to offline data pad.

Ratchet motioned to the cube. "You really need to fuel up, Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker sighed and grabbed the energon cube. "Did you come here just to check up on me, Ratchet?" Sunstreaker took an obedient sip from his cube.

Ratchet smiled tightly, though it didn't reach his optics. "No."

"I don't want to talk about this." Sunstreaker rolled the cube in between his hands.

Ratchet sighed, then slowly padded closer to Sunstreaker. The golden twin still wouldn't meet his optics. Ratchet finally sat down on the edge of the table, facing Sunstreaker. "Where's Sideswipe?"

Sunstreaker's scowl darkened. "Not. Here," he said, his voice clipped and harsh.

Ratchet studied Sunstreaker. The yellow twin still wouldn't meet his gaze. Finally, Ratchet spoke again. "Have you thought about what you want to do with your sparkling?" His voice was soft.

Sunstreaker stared ahead, not seeing anything. He didn't speak for a long moment. He coughed, choking on the gears in his throat. "I'm not going to keep it." His voice was low, and he barely choked the words past his lips.

Ratchet sighed heavily, slumping. "Are you sure?"

Sunstreaker inhaled, then nodded.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Sunstreaker." He leaned forward, resting his helm in his hands and rubbed his fingers over his optics.

Sunstreaker's helm twisted and he stared at the dejected medic sitting on his table. He frowned. "Why?"

Ratchet shook his helm. "Our species isn't doing that great, Sunstreaker, if you haven't noticed. Between the war that's lasted entirely too long and the death of our planet, we are all that is left." Ratchet rolled his helm in his hand until he was staring at Sunstreaker. "You're very young, actually. Most mechs don't start having sparklings until later in their lives." Ratchet pushed himself straight, resting his hands on his knees.

Sunstreaker stared at Ratchet. "You want me to repopulate our species?"

Ratchet chuckled. "No, Sunny, not you alone. But we finally have time now to do so, and more importantly, we have the peace to do so. The humans are keeping the Decepticons on the run, and our lives have become much safer." Ratchet smiled sadly. "If there was a time to start having sparklings again, it would be now."

Sunstreaker looked away. "I'm not keeping it, Ratchet." His voice dropped. "I can't."

"Have you spoken to the other parent?"

Sunstreaker didn't answer. He swallowed, still looking away.

"Sunny, maybe if you just talk to him-"

Sunstreaker cut Ratchet off. "Ratchet, even if I did want to keep it, I _can't_." Sunstreaker offlined his optics.

"Is it… because of who the parent is?" Sunstreaker shook his helm, his optics still dark. His fingers gripped the energon cube in his hands, and the thick liquid sloshed around unsteadily. "Who is it, Sunny?"

Sunstreaker exhaled, harsh and low.

"Would it really be that bad if you told him?"

"I didn't want this, Ratchet!" Sunstreaker suddenly shouted. "I never wanted this! I never wanted a sparkling!"

Ratchet smiled tightly. "I never wanted to join the army. Things happen, Sunny. Life happens. We can either accept it or run away. You never know what will happen unless you take that chance."

Sunstreaker's vents heaved as he stared at Ratchet. Ratchet's hand snaked out, gripping Sunstreaker's wrist. "It's your choice, Sunstreaker, to do what you want. But please just think about it. Take more than one day."

Sunstreaker shook his helm slowly, letting it fall forward between his shoulders. "If I keep it, everyone will know…" His voice was weak, barely audible and strained.

Ratchet sighed, then squeezed Sunstreaker's wrist gently. "Is that a bad thing?" Sunstreaker nodded, his helm bobbing up and down between his shoulders. There was simply so much shame radiating from his body that Ratchet couldn't help but scoot closer and try to offer some comfort. His other hand joined the first, and they gripped Sunstreaker's yellow fingers gently.

Ratchet truly, and possibly naively, hoped that everything would work out. He wasn't close to Sunstreaker personally, but he did have a passing knowledge of how particular and private their golden warrior was. Ratchet was on comfortably familiar terms with every other member of the _Ark_, and there wasn't a single mech that he knew of that would react to Sunstreaker's news in some horrific or terrible way. There would be shock, for sure, but nothing that Ratchet could figure that would have placed such fear into the frontliner. It was odd to see the golden warrior like this, and to Ratchet, the only thing holding Sunstreaker back from telling the other parent was his fearful and stifling privacy.

If Sunstreaker did chose to keep it, everyone would indeed know not only that he was carrying, but eventually, they would all know who the other parent was, even if he never said a word. And, if he chose not to involve the other parent at all, even privately, they would be in for a rather rude awakening when the mixed model sparkling emerged. Parental lineage wasn't always easy to distinguish, but in such a small and tight knit group of mechs, picking out the features and inherited parts from each parent would become a ribald sport amongst the crew.

Ratchet had a sudden and uncomfortable thought cross his processor. There weren't a lot of relationships on the _Ark_, but there were a handful of partnered pairs in long-term relationships. Could Sunstreaker have stumbled into an illicit affair? Was that the reason he was keeping so tight lipplated about the whole incident? Was it a one-night encounter? Was it something he regretted? There was just too much Ratchet didn't know, and Sunstreaker wasn't sharing.

It never occurred to Ratchet that the other parent might already indeed know. It was just an unthinkable possibility to him that out of the three mechs that knew of Sunstreaker's predicament, two were the parents.

Ratchet squeezed down on Sunstreaker's fingers, gently shaking the frontliner's limp hands in his grip. "Sunny, you're not alone in this. We can help you."

Sunstreaker finally looked up. "Who?"

"Me, and your brother-"

Sunstreaker snorted. "Sideswipe's not helping me."

Ratchet frowned. "Sideswipe was very helpful earlier. He seems very concerned about you, Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker's lips pressed tightly together, twisting around themselves. He extricated his hands from Ratchet's soft grip. "He's not worried about me. He's only concerned with himself. Always has been."

Ratchet leaned back. "Are we talking about the same Sideswipe?"

Sunstreaker threw Ratchet a sidelong glare as he resumed rolling the energon cube in his hands. "I know my brother." Ratchet continued to stare at Sunstreaker before Sunstreaker spoke again. "I can't keep it, Ratchet. I_ can't._ No matter how much time I take, the answer is still the same."

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Sunstreaker dimmed his optics as he set the energon cube on the table before him. His fingers drifted towards the data pad he had been reading, then shied away. "It doesn't matter what I want," he said softly. "It can't happen. Thinking any other way is useless."

Silence filled the twins' quarters once more as Ratchet stared at Sunstreaker. Finally, he nodded. "I assume you want this dealt with privately?"

"Of course."

"We have a bunch of change of command hoopla going on over the next two weeks. Visiting doctors, scientists, some presentations. Let's wait until after that has died down to do the surgery. I don't want to rush anything."

Sunstreaker nodded again, slowly. Ratchet continued. "Until then, you need to keep fueling up with the additives and getting your full recharge. You'll collapse again if you don't. You're already low, and I want you to be brought back up to your baseline energy level before we do anything."

Sunstreaker finally met Ratchet's gaze. He nodded, and his optics were filled with tired resignation. Ratchet wanted to start their entire conversation over again, based entirely on that look. Somewhere, somehow, something could be different.

However, Sunstreaker had made his choice. Ratchet couldn't make it for him. He smiled sadly at Sunstreaker's gaze, then reached out once more to grip Sunstreaker's wrist. He squeezed and finally stood. Sunstreaker followed, and the two walked to the door in silence. Sunstreaker palmed the doorpad open for Ratchet and the medic stepped out into the brightly lit corridor. He turned, intending to say goodnight to the golden twin.

Sunstreaker beat him to it. "Thank you, Ratchet." Sunstreaker swallowed, and it sounded to Ratchet as if Sunstreaker had had to force those words out.

Ratchet nodded, unable to reply. To his recollection, that was the first time Sunstreaker had ever thanked him for anything.


	5. Chapter 5

**Unintended Five**

* * *

Over time, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's lives settled into a tense, angry routine. Sideswipe avoided Sunstreaker as much as he could, and Sunstreaker snapped at Sideswipe at every opportunity.

Sideswipe stayed at Bluestreak's quarters on their game night almost longer than he was welcome. Hound and Mirage had long ago left, and only he and Smokescreen were still playing. Bluestreak had lain down on his berth and was half-watching, half-recharging while Sideswipe delayed the inevitable return to his and his brother's quarters. Smokescreen seemed to be in no hurry to go either, and Sideswipe felt him shift ever closer over the evening, until they were sitting and playing side-by-side. Their plating brushed each other lightly with nearly every movement.

Smokescreen finally turned to Sideswipe after Bluestreak nodded off entirely. "Siders," he said softly, nudging the red twin with his elbow. "Wanna get out of here?"

Sideswipe looked at him sideways, finally breaking out of the spell of the game and returning to the real world… and Bluestreak's empty quarters. "Yeah," he said sheepishly. "Let's leave Blue alone." Sideswipe punched off the game as Smokescreen cleaned up the mess and piled the old energon cubes in a stack on Bluestreak's center table.

They ducked into the corridor, then started making their way toward both of their quarters. Smokescreen's was closest, and the twins' furthest from both Bluestreak's and the _Ark's_ entrance. They made small talk along the way, and Smokescreen continued to tease Sideswipe about a gaff he had made earlier in one of their games.

"Want to come in?" Smokescreen smiled up at Sideswipe as they stopped outside his quarters. "We could play a little longer…" His tone trailed off as his optics sparkled.

Sideswipe started, surprised by Smokescreen's causal offer. His mind was already back on Sunstreaker. "Not tonight, Smokey," Sideswipe said, smiling gently. "It's pretty late…" _I need to get back to Sunstreaker._ "I'm pretty tired, too." _Primus, I hope he's recharging._

Smokescreen smiled. "Not a problem. I'll walk with you back."

"You don't have to do that," Sideswipe tried to motion Smokescreen back toward his own quarters.

"Of course I don't," Smokescreen smiled again. "But I'd like to." His optics ridges darted upwards, once.

Sideswipe didn't have an answer for that. He followed Smokescreen on the final stretch back to his quarters. Unfortunately, since Smokescreen was there, he couldn't develop loose hinges and turn away from going inside. Smokescreen smiled at him as Sideswipe entered their locking code, and he tried to hide his nerves in a shaky smile back. "Goodnight," he whispered as their door slid open.

"'Night, Siders. Thanks for coming." Smokescreen's doorwings flicked briefly before he turned to walk away.

Sideswipe ducked into his quarters, then palmed shut the door behind him. The light from the corridor disappeared, and he was plunged into the darkness. His quarters, once so welcoming and familiar to him, were suddenly cold, alien, and unfamiliar. The only comforting thing, at all, was the soft noise of Sunstreaker's steady, deep breathing. He was solidly in recharge.

Sunstreaker's face was smooth, free of his angry scowl, and he looked so much like the mech that Sideswipe loved that it physically hurt to look at him. Sideswipe turned away, then moved across to his berth. He lay down carefully, on the very edge of his berth and on his side and facing his brother, as if somehow the distance between them would evaporate into the darkness.

Recharge, when it came, was fitful, and he was up well before his usual initiation routines kicked online.

* * *

Sunstreaker tried to stay up and wait for Sideswipe to return after Ratchet's impromptu visit, but he was physically too exhausted. It angered him that he was so drained of energy when he felt so utterly useless and inefficient. He had spent nearly the entire day in recharge, and yet still he was yearning for more. He forcibly offlined his recharge subroutines three times before he had finally succumbed to his processor's and his body's pull. He was so thoroughly exhausted that his recharge was blissfully nightmare- and dream-free.

When he onlined, Sideswipe was still gone, but there was a freshly prepared cube of energon and his additives on his berthside table. Sunstreaker stared at it for a long moment before he drew it into both of his hands.

It was still warm.

The _Ark_ itself settled into a strange routine. Visitors and dignitaries arrived for official tours, briefings, meetings, and skill shares over the next several weeks. Their rosters were filled with PR events, and the mechs that had once been on patrol duty were now on escort duty. Sunstreaker, who even on his best day had a low tolerance for the humans, had volunteered for monitor and comms duty _ad infinitum_. It was dull and dreary, but it was private and out of the way.

Unfortunately, it gave him far too much time to think, to wonder, and to remember as well. When he wasn't on shift at comms or pulling extra duties at the monitors, Sunstreaker was closeted inside their quarters. He was naturally reclusive by nature, but the double shock of both his current predicament and the lack of Sideswipe's cheerful engagement of himself with their friends kept Sunstreaker locked away in his own self-isolation.

Prime was still working one on one with the humans in Washington DC and New York City, and had left command control of the _Ark_ to Prowl, Jazz, and Ironhide. Jazz enjoyed bouncing between each group of visiting humans as he played Commander, and Prowl ensured that the _Ark_ remained functional and on schedule despite the complete upheaval. Ironhide just liked to bang helms together and put on a loud, boisterous show for his tactical demonstrations.

Ratchet hosted a long series of visiting medical professionals all interested in cross-species medical information. There was talk of setting up a cross-species exchange, and the sharing of new information and knowledge was always a welcome one to Ratchet. He poured over their medical and anatomical features for days, though he left out several of the more intricate pieces of their physiology: their vulnerabilities, their sparks and their 'souls,' and their means of reproduction. The first was pragmatic, the second spiritual, and the third just hit too close to spark for his current liking. He didn't know if he'd be able to go in depth with all their questions in a dry, clinical manner, or if he'd be able to go through with the surgery Sunstreaker had requested if he did so.

Ratchet had meant what he had said to Sunstreaker: now was the perfect time to start having sparklings again, if they were to have any future as a species. Most of the mechs on the _Ark_ were in their sparking ages, and it should be just a matter of time until the first one happened. The first sparkling to emerge would be an amazing event. It would be proof positive that they could, in fact, rebuild. They could recover from their devastating war, the loss of their world, and the near loss of themselves. It would be hope, finally, in a physical form. That hope, that feeling, was almost as intensely personal to Ratchet as the sparkling itself had to be for Sunstreaker. His sparkling could mean so much more to all of them.

Ratchet tried to push all thoughts of Sunstreaker out of his processor as best as he could. Occasionally, he wondered how their reclusive, reluctant parent was doing. There hadn't been any indications that Sunstreaker had told anyone, most especially the other parent, about his predicament. The _Ark _had been quiet on gossip, and no mech seemed to be walking around in processor shock. There hadn't been any crashes, or fights, or any reports of Sunstreaker doing anything outside of his ordinary, solitary routine. Everything was as it shouldn't be. Still, Sunstreaker had to make his own choices. So far, he seemed to be taking care of himself and his sparkling. There truly wasn't anything more Ratchet could do for him... not until the surgery.

Sideswipe spent all his waking hours with his friends. He, Bluestreak, Hound, Smokescreen, and occasionally Mirage all worked with Ironhide for the tactical and weapons demonstrations for the visiting allies and military personnel. They engaged in endless repetitions of marksmanship expositions, tactical displays, maneuvers and exercises, and in their least favorite activity, were volunteered as test mechs for the science crews' new pet projects. Sideswipe tested Wheeljack's new jetpack, and though he remembered the infamous fight Wheeljack and Ratchet had had after Wheeljack quite literally blew off his aft with the older design, he still strapped himself into the 'new and improved' version.

It worked like a charm. The humans were suitably impressed. Wheeljack was ecstatic, though Sideswipe was more happy to not lose his aft.

With all of that going on, Sideswipe only returned to his quarters for a few hours each day, which was mostly fine with him. He grabbed short recharge naps in the Rec Room, and then managed to get a few hours of straight recharge in between his staring at Sunstreaker's body as his brother rested and before he silently left after preparing his brother's morning energon cube and additives. The morning energon cubes were the only way he could think to help his brother

Sideswipe surrounded himself with his friends in order to drown out the noise in his head and the pain in his spark. Thoughts, images, and memories of Sunstreaker played on an endless loop, superimposed by the pain and agony he felt as their separation grew deeper and stronger. He refused to think about their sparkling, and he forced his processor to immediately shut down all lines of thought that started leading toward 'what ifs,' possibilities, and daydreams. He told himself that he'd never hold a sparkling, never. He'd never have this one with his brother… and after this, he was certain he'd never want a sparkling with any other. The simple thought of "another mech" to love was still too new, too painfully fresh to fully acknowledge. He had never wanted anything permanent with another mech, only his brother. That, however, was impossible.

Sideswipe seized onto the comfort and the delightfully noisy presence his friends provided. They were happy, full of life, and exuberant. Most of all, they _wanted_ Sideswipe with them. He drank in their smiles, their laughter, and the friendly desire and acceptance they bathed him in unknowingly.

Smokescreen was nearly in the Matrix as well. He had always had more than a passing crush on the red twin, but none of his subtle hints in the past about possibly trying for a more exclusive relationship had ever been acknowledged. Smokescreen didn't know if that was because Sideswipe just ignored them, or if he truly didn't register in his processor that someone wanted him exclusively. He was so mercurial, and such a shameless flirt and pleasure-seeker, that it was entirely possible that Sideswipe had never had the thought to actually settle down with any one mech at all.

Now though, Sideswipe was with him all the time. The red twin was suddenly always there, always in their circle of friends, and always alone. Sunstreaker's oppressive shadow and less-engaging presence didn't mar the brightness of Sideswipe or their group's fun. Smokescreen didn't mind Sunstreaker, but he just wasn't as fun or as pleasant to be around as his brother. When it came down to it, Sideswipe was more their friend than Sunstreaker. Smokescreen was basking in his own happiness at Sideswipe's seemingly total new devotion to his friends. Sideswipe didn't even seem to mind Smokescreen's gentle flirting.

Though, Smokescreen noticed on occasion that Sideswipe was sometimes distant, sometimes preoccupied. Smokescreen saw that faraway and hurting look in Sideswipe's optics just after they had finished their latest round of demonstrations for the visiting Air Force detachment. Their group, along with Ironhide, had played the part of the Decepticons as the human combat forces tried to successfully battle them in different ways. Happily, the humans beat them about half the time. That was significant progress, and they weren't even going easy on them.

They had been cleaning up and had removed and collected each of the laser targets they had worn on their armor to match with the laser weapons that had been outfitted on the human military equipment and personal weapons when Smokescreen noticed that Sideswipe hadn't joined them. He wandered back out onto the small airfield and finally spotted Sideswipe leaning up against the rear of one of the parked helicopters. The setting sun behind him cast the entire line of machines, helicopters, and one Lamborghini mech in harsh shadows against the burning orange of the desert dusk. For a moment, it was beautiful to Smokescreen, but the slump to Sideswipe's shoulders told him something was wrong.

"Siders?" Smokescreen walked up slowly, then spoke softly to his friend.

"We're not staying out here all night, are we?" Sideswipe's voice was low and clipped, and he didn't meet Smokescreen's optics. His gaze was firmly fixed on the setting sun across the burning, barren desert.

"No." Smokescreen smiled, trying to bring his friend some sort of humor or smile in the midst of whatever was hurting him. "Don't want to spend the night out here, huh? With the humans?"

Sideswipe's smile thinned, and he finally looked back at Smokescreen. "No."

Smokescreen smile dimmed, but he kept it up for Sideswipe's sake. "Well, that's good," he said with a slight teasing lilt to his voice. "We're planning a surprise party tonight for Prowl, and I'd hate for you to miss it."

Sideswipe frowned at Smokescreen, confused. "Prowl? You're throwing a party for him?"

"Yes, we are." Smokescreen chuckled. "Jazz let slip that Prowl's heading out on a long term duty assignment with the County Sheriff's office here. Mirage told Hound, Hound told us, and we all decided we should throw Prowl a surprise going away party."

Sideswipe finally grinned. "I wonder what Prowl's going to think about all this."

"Well," Smokescreen began slyly. "Depending on whom you ask, this is as much a party for us as it is for him. Imagine, an _Ark_ free of Prowl!"

Sideswipe tried to laugh, but the only thought that raced through his processor was one of relief. A_t least Prowl won't find out about Sunstreaker and me if he's not here!_

Smokescreen held out his hand, motioning for Sideswipe to walk back with him. "Let's get going. We're all heading back soon."

Sideswipe nodded, and he finally truly smiled at Smokescreen. Smokescreen felt his spark flutter at the sight. Sideswipe fell into step beside him, and Smokescreen continued to smile as they made their way back to the hanger together.

About half way there, Sideswipe chuckled lightly, then bumped Smokescreen's shoulder with his own. "The humans will never know what hit them when Prowl shows up." He smiled at Smokescreen, this time somehow seeming shy and exuberant all at once. The combination of his gentle smile, the warmth behind his gaze, and the softly setting sun made Smokescreen fall just a little bit more for his friend. It was hopeless, and it was fruitless, and he had no chance for anything serious between them, but that didn't matter to his spark. He realized in that instant that he was falling too deeply for Sideswipe. Smokescreen laughed, ducking his helm down as he leaned his shoulder slightly into Sideswipe's side. He was suddenly shy himself as the force and depth of his feelings were laid bare before him.

Sideswipe's hand briefly came to rest on his lower back, just over his backstruts. Smokescreen couldn't have stopped the excited flutter of his spark or doorwings if he had tried with all his might. He didn't try, and the small jolt of excited electricity thrilled him as they continued on their way to the hanger in companionable silence.

* * *

Prowl strode through the doors of the Rec Room and stopped dead in his tracks.

Nearly all the _Ark_'s crewmembers were there, and every one of them turned as one towards the doorway when Prowl entered. "Surprise!" they cried out in unison, and then broke out into a long round of raucous applause. Colored streamers hung from the ceiling in long, haphazard strips, and a self-made banner stretched across the back wall. "Have a Great Trip," it read, though the letters canted slightly to the side as they traveled down the banner.

Prowl's optics searched over the crowd until he found Jazz smirking at the back of the room. His optics narrowed as he spotted the too-teasing tilt to his grin. "Thank you," Prowl said stiffly to the room and the mechs within. Prowl's optics moved off of Jazz and swept around the Rec Room. Bluestreak was grinning wildly, while next to him Hound and Mirage were both smiling at him. Smokescreen leaned up against the bulkhead, throwing Prowl a single wink, and, finally, Sideswipe rounded out the small gaggle of miscreants that had most likely put this party together. Sideswipe was leaning up against the bulkhead as well, though his shoulders were hunched up, his helm was ducked low, and the small, tight smile he wore didn't reach his optics.

The rest of the room clapped again, then dispersed back to their small gatherings and groupings. Well wishes were sent Prowl's way, as well as joking clandestine plans for _Ark_-bound mayhem or mischief. Prowl nodded his thanks, then turned his full attention to Jazz. The Saboteur had pushed himself off the back bulkhead and had made his way through the crowd.

Leave it to Jazz, the resident party animal, to arrange a gathering for the _Ark's_ supposed resident kill joy. They were colleagues, and Prowl respected Jazz as an officer, but aside from their shifts and occasional shared cubes in the Rec Room, the two didn't associate.

"I take it I have you to blame for this?" Prowl drawled with an arched optic ridge.

Jazz continued to smirk. "Me? Nah, I didn't do anything in here! I think the culprits you're looking for are over there." Jazz pointed towards the gaggle of mechs in the corner, fingering Sideswipe and his group of laughing friends. Prowl's optics lingered on the red twin. He was still standing slightly apart, slightly outside the tight knit group of his own friends.

Prowl finally cracked a small smile. "So now you are employing henchmen to do your bidding?"

"Henchmen?" Jazz feigned shocked outrage.

"Since only you and Optimus knew of my special duty assignment, I must deduce that it was you who spilled the news to the mechs onboard. Most likely," Prowl said dryly, though his optics sparkled as he teased Jazz. "Through Mirage, who then, naturally, couldn't keep such information from Hound. Hound, being such a nice mech, would tell Bluestreak, who would, of course, want to do something for me."

"He always does." Jazz continued to grin at Prowl.

"Indeed. Your plan has succeeded, Jazz. Was this a carefully plotted endeavour, or your traditional seat-of—the-aft, accidental success?"

Jazz winked behind his visor, waving one finger at Prowl. "And that's why we'll miss ya, Prowler." He clapped Prowl's shoulder once, slightly too hard, then shook his helm. He moved off into the crowd. "Enjoy your party!" he called back over his shoulder.

Prowl arched one optic ridge after Jazz, though the 3IC never looked back. Jazz disappeared amongst Track's table, and after a friendly clap on the back to both Bumblebee and Cliffjumper, Jazz sat down and dealt himself into the ongoing card game. Prowl watched the group briefly before he turned his attention back to the room at large.

Most of the mechs had already gone back to their own pursuits. This was as much an excuse for a party as it was a party solely for him. Prowl had no illusions as to his popularity on the _Ark_. He had few true friends, namely Prime and Bluestreak. He was on reasonably sociable terms with most of the rest of the crew, and he could honestly say that no one on the _Ark_ actually hated him. He was, however, not the most popular mech. That, undoubtedly, was Jazz.

Bluestreak waved wildly, trying to grab Prowl's attention. "Prowl! Over here!" Prowl smiled back at the younger doorwinger and made his way across the Rec Room.

His optics once again caught on Sideswipe as he joined the group. Smokescreen was glued to the frontliner's side, and though Sideswipe was now smiling at Prowl as he approached, he was still far too quiet. Prowl hadn't heard anything through official channels regarding Sunstreaker, and both twins had been performing well within their duties over the past couple of weeks. There were no hard facts with which to deduce any sort of happening, but that didn't make Prowl any less suspicious. The periphery, the emotional cues, the less tangible evidence, were screaming at Prowl.

"Hey, Prowl!" Bluestreak chirped. "We heard about your new assignment, and we had to throw you a going away party, I mean, you didn't think you'd just leave the _Ark_ without telling us, did you?"

Prowl shook his helm. "No, Bluestreak. I would have told you. However… " His optics dragged over the room once more. "I might not have told everyone."

The group laughed. "So, what are you doing out there? I thought you already were helping the humans?" Bluestreak's optics were glowing as he stared at Prowl.

"I've been assisting their investigations, yes. We've been sharing limited resources and practical intelligence when our boundaries or missions intersected in the past several years. I developed somewhat of a close working relationship with some of the County Sheriff's Detectives through this, and they have invited me to join them for a more official cross-sharing of resources and training."

Bluestreak nodded, though he didn't quite understand the lure of sharing resources or of joining forces with the human police forces. Hound nodded, speaking up. "What will you specifically be doing?"

"At first, I'll be assisting with the day-to-day patrol operations. Bringing Cybertronian technologies to the crime-fighting mission of the humans' police force can potentially revolutionize the traffic and criminal law prosecution within this country. From there, I hope to assist in streamlining their longer running investigations: their unsolved cases, their robberies, their missing persons, and their homicides."

"Sounds fascinating," Mirage said, half-dry and half-serious. With Mirage, it was hard to tell either way at the best of times. Prowl decided to take it as a compliment and simply nodded at the spy.

"What I want to know," Smokescreen began, drawing closer to the small circle of mechs, "is just how 'close' of a 'close working relationship' do you have?" Smokescreen leered teasingly at Prowl.

The rest of the group laughed as Prowl stared Smokescreen down. He simply raised one optic ridge at his fellow doorwinger. "It is not as interesting as you would have it, I am sure." The laughter continued on, this time at Smokescreen's expense.

Sideswipe reached out to push against Smokescreen's shoulder as he joined the rest in laughing at Smokescreen. Prowl turned towards Sideswipe. The red twin seemed to shrink from his gaze, and his optics wandered away from Prowl's piercing stares. "How is Sunstreaker?" Prowl finally asked.

Sideswipe froze for only a moment. "Sunny's fine, Prowl!" He forced out. The lightness in his tone was entirely fake, and Prowl saw through it right away. "He's great!" Sideswipe tried to smile.

Smokescreen's helm swiveled to stare wide-optic'd at Sideswipe. "Is something wrong with Sunny, Siders? Is that why he's not coming out anymore?"

"No!"

Mirage and Hound turned toward the small commotion forming. Prowl peered over Sideswipe as he started to panic. "Sunny's fine! I promise! He's fine."

"Yeah, where is Sunstreaker?" Bluestreak finally piped up. "He doesn't really like big parties, but he always shows up a bit. He likes to hang out and play games, but he's been totally gone for what, a few weeks now? Sides, what's up?"

"Nothing, I swear!" Sideswipe's optics were darting between Smokescreen's curious gaze, Prowl's intense stare, and the slightly confused looks Mirage and Hound were giving him. "He's fine. He's totally fine."

"He's pulling a double shift tonight at the comms. Brawn was talking about how he didn't want to miss the card games tonight, and that Sunny took his shift for him so he could come here." Hound glanced at Sideswipe. "You sure he's alright? He's helping out Brawn!"

Sideswipe boggled. "He's pulling a double?"

Hound nodded. Prowl and Smokescreen both stared at Sideswipe, reading in between the denials and protestations of the red twin.

"You know what," Sideswipe began. "I'm going to go check up on him. You're right, Hound, if he's helping out Brawn, then he's got at least some wire crossed." Sideswipe tried to smirk at his friend, and it came out halfway decent. Sideswipe set down his untouched cube on the near table. "Have a good time tonight guys. And Prowl… Good luck." Sideswipe smiled at Prowl, though he shied away from meeting his gaze. Sideswipe pushed away from his friends.

He needed to get out. He needed to flee. He needed to get away. Their questions were caving in all around him and the denials he'd tried to uphold hadn't lasted very long at all. Nothing was right, not anymore, and he didn't know how much longer he could pretend it was.

Sideswipe put a quick end to the line of panicked thinking as he ducked out of the Rec Room. He sagged backwards against the bulkhead. He felt Prowl and Smokescreen's optics on his back during his entire retreat from the party.

He felt two inches from flying apart.

* * *

"Ready for your energon?" Sideswipe forced his happy smile as he greeted Smokescreen at his door the next morning. It was becoming routine, faking this cheerfulness, and he hoped that one day it would actually stick.

That wasn't this day, however.

Smokescreen smiled at Sideswipe. "I am." he stepped out into the hallway and fell into step with the red twin. "So, how's Sunny?"

Sideswipe kept his optics focused ahead. "He's fine. Just really focused on some things at the moment, you know?" Sideswipe tried to smile reassuringly at Smokescreen and not look him in the optics all at once. He failed on both counts.

"The party was fun. The minibots got a pretty rousing card game going." Smokescreen kept watching his friend carefully as they made their way through the _Ark_ to the Rec Room. He'd been watching Sideswipe for days, weeks now, and something wasn't quite right.

"I bet that was fun." Sideswipe glanced at Smokescreen. "Did you clean them out at the end? Ruin their cheerful evening with your tricks?"

"Me?" Smokescreen feigned shocked surprise. "Would I ever run a card game?"

Sideswipe's optics ridges arched high. "You've taken mine and Sunny's high grade many times!"

Smokescreen laughed. "Only because you deserved it." He smirked at Sideswipe as they came up to Rec Room door. They were early, and the morning rush wouldn't really kick off for another ten minutes. Sideswipe laughed back at Smokescreen as he strode through the door.

He stopped suddenly as his optics immediately fell on the broad yellow shoulders of his brother, hunched over with his back facing the doorway. There were a few other mechs scattered about the room, but Sunstreaker had a wide swath of bitterly alone space stretched around him. Sideswipe's vents halted, then hitched.

Smokescreen pushed past Sideswipe, making his way over to the energon dispensers. He waved at Sunstreaker as he called out a friendly greeting. "Heya, Sunstreaker. Haven't seen much of you lately!"

Sunstreaker's shoulders stiffened at the sound, and his gaze stalked Smokescreen across the Rec Room. His optics narrowed to slits as Smokescreen turned, and despite the absolute radiation of 'stay away,' Smokescreen ambled his way over to Sunstreaker's lonely table.

Sideswipe watched it all, immobile.

"C'mon, Siders, I've got you a cube." Smokescreen waved toward Sideswipe as he sat down across from Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker's hands were wrapped solidly around his cube, covering the translucent surface from view and hiding his dark maroon energon and ore additives from his unasked-for visitors. "How are you, Sunstreaker?"

Sunstreaker grunted at Smokescreen as he pulled his covered cube closer to his body. He glared at Smokescreen, even as his attention was entirely focused on the careful, hesitant steps of Sideswipe, moving closer behind him.

"You missed a fun party," Smokescreen tried again. He wasn't overly fond of Sunstreaker, but he didn't not like him. Besides, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were close, very close, despite Smokescreen's complete inability to understand their friendship at all. How could such a happy, carefree mech like Sideswipe enjoy his brother's sullen presence? Nonetheless, he did, and Smokescreen endeavored to try to be more cheerful toward Sideswipe's brother.

Sideswipe finally reached the edge of the table. He slid the chair next to Sunstreaker out slowly, not looking anywhere near his brother.

"Are you sure you're alright, Sunstreaker? You look… tired. Siders says you're focused on something…" Smokescreen's voice trailed off as Sunstreaker's helm shot up, and his optics bored into Smokescreen's.

"'Siders'" says so?" Sunstreaker finally spoke, his voice clipped and cold. He had always hated that nickname. His optics slid sideways, staring at his brother.

Sideswipe tried to bury himself in his chair. He tried to disappear, to fade away like Mirage, or to collapse through the floor in a suddenly explosion of Wheeljack's. He wanted to be anywhere but here, anywhere but at the end of another of Sunstreaker's angry, furious glares. Smokescreen stared between the two, his optics wide and confused.

"I'm fine," Sunstreaker snarled out bitterly, just as the Rec Room doors slid open once again, and the Hound and Mirage barreled through in a storm of laughter. They saw the three already at the table and headed over.

"Hey, Sunstreaker," Hound called out as he and Mirage stopped opposite Sideswipe at their table. "How are you?" Smokescreen's helm shot sideways, and he tried to silently, subtly shake his helm 'no' in a vague attempt to warn off their questions.

"I'm fine," Sunstreaker mumbled. He drew his cube even closer, nearly hovering over it protectively as his fingers squeezed down around the edges.

Mirage frowned down at the yellow Lambo. "I know who's not fine: _us_. Ironhide seemed exceptionally bent last night, and I am sure we're in for it today." His smooth voice barely rose, thought his lips curled slightly in a small smirk.

"I think his energon was taken last night by Cliffjumper." Smokescreen stood, quickly gulping down his own ration. "He'll be in a foul mood. Let's get going." He motioned for the two mechs to precede him away from their table and out of the Rec Room. "Nice seeing you again, Sunstreaker," Smokescreen said stiffly as he passed. His optics lingered on Sideswipe, still staring down at the table surface silently. "Are you coming, Sideswipe?"

Sideswipe finally looked up. Smokescreen's vents hitched at the sudden shock of pain buried within his darkened optics, though Sideswipe tried to cover it. "I'll be right there," he said quietly. Smokescreen nodded, then followed after Hound and Mirage, already waiting for him at the doorway with confused and wary looks.

"Sunny…" Sideswipe voice trailed off. Sunstreaker wouldn't meet his gaze. "Have you…" Sideswipe swallowed painfully. He had no idea what to say. "Have you spoken with Ratchet yet?"

Sunstreaker's lips pressed firmly together, thinning to nearly an unseen line. His hands squeezed down, almost fracturing the translucent surface of his energon cube still hidden within his grip. "Don't worry," he finally choked out. "It's being taken care of."

Sideswipe swallowed. He pushed his cube away. He had no more appetite. "That's good," he whispered.

Sunstreaker twitched. He refused to look up, refused to meet his brother's gaze.

"Siders?" Smokescreen called out carefully from the doorway. "Are you coming?"

Sideswipe met Smokescreen's optics with a relieved look. "Yeah," he said. "I'm coming now." Sideswipe stood up quickly, leaving his full and untouched cube on the table surface next to Sunstreaker. He turned, not looking at or acknowledging his brother as he walked away.

Sunstreaker listened to each of the quick footfalls of his brother as Sideswipe walked away from him.

Sunstreaker left the Rec Room a few minutes later. His processor was swirling, his spark was aching, and all he wanted was to curl up alone in his berth. His turbulent, tumultuous emotions carried him silently through the hallways back to his quarters.

He stopped cold as he walked inside. There, on his berthside table, was a fresh cube of energon, mixed with his additives, just like every morning. _Sideswipe_… he thought, nearly on the verge of breaking apart. _Why do you hurt me so much?_

* * *

For the next week, the only communication Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had was over the comm. Sideswipe continued working with his team and Ironhide with the human military, though their excessive routines slowed down somewhat. He wished they still had that furious, fast tempo, though. It kept his mind occupied and off of his brother.

Sunstreaker heard Sideswipe's voice over the commlines throughout the day. He kept volunteering for more shifts and refused to take his days off. Most of the mechs were happy to trade shifts with him, and he was able to work constantly. He avoided their quarters for nearly the entire day, preferring to stay at the comms stations until he was ready to fall into recharge at his seat. Though he hated it, and he equally recoiled painfully from the sound, each day he sat at the comms station, he was ale to hear Sideswipe's voice. His brother reported in, acknowledged the _Ark_'s orders, and relayed their status on the hour.

"Sideswipe to the _Ark_."

"_Ark_ here." Sunstreaker's rough voice always answered the same.

"Reporting in, 1300 status check. All clear."

"All clear, acknowledged." It was the only communication they had.

Sunstreaker was one hour past his shift's conclusion, but still at the comms station one evening when Ratchet pinged him. Sideswipe was on extended nighttime exercises with Ironhide and the humans, and Sunstreaker had told Inferno he'd hold down the comms station for next few hours and ping him when he was ready to go.

"Sunstreaker, this is Ratchet."

Sunstreaker froze. Nothing from the medic was ever good at this point. Ratchet's voice had become synonymous with his world coming undone. If he could, he'd never speak to the medic again. "Go ahead," he replied gruffly.

Ratchet paused briefly before continuing. "My week is clear. We can schedule your surgery at any time with full privacy."

Sunstreaker nodded silently to himself. The time had come. "Tomorrow," he grunted. There was no point in putting it off any longer.

To his credit, Ratchet didn't hesitate. "I'm taking you off duty tomorrow afternoon. Report to the medbay at 1300."

"Understood." Sunstreaker closed the line as soon as he had spoken. This was it. Tomorrow he'd be free. Tomorrow he'd be back to himself. Tomorrow it would all go away. Tomorrow it would be as if nothing had happened... Ever. He and Sideswipe had reached a gulf, and impenetrable, uncrossable divide.

Sunstreaker stared dumbly at the flashing lights of the comm board. Sideswipe was calling in with their hourly update for the evening. His brother's voice echoed around the command deck for the second time, requesting confirmation of his update.

Sunstreaker stood abruptly and comm'd Inferno. He waited one second for Inferno to respond, then fled the deck, striding away from his brother's haunting voice as fast as he could.

* * *

Sideswipe trudged through the _Ark_'s hallways. He was exhausted. Their nighttime training exercises had lasted too long. It had been far more complicated, in Sideswipe's mind, than it should have been to integrate the human's nightvision aviation battle skynet to their visual feeds. Their HUDs were supposed to display a small cross section of the human's vidfeed, and it should have been an easy patch. But, between the humans' ridiculous levels of Pentagon security and Red Alert's own paranoia over the process, there had been significant, unnecessary delays. And that was all before they had even started testing. Ultimately, they had canceled the exercise several hours after midnight. The humans were going to rework their systems to ensure greater compatibility with their own internal systems.

Sideswipe continued on his way back to his quarters. It was late, Primusly so, and it was nearly time for the morning shift to start waking from recharge. Thankfully, they all had the day off after their all-night escapades, and he was looking forward to some rest and recharge. He'd spent most of the evening, after returning at an unholy hour of the middle of the night, propped up in the Rec Room and fading in and out of recharge. His chronometer had finally pinged, signaling it was time for his morning ritual.

Sideswipe sighed and palmed open the door to his quarters. Once so welcoming, this door now held nothing but pain and longing behind it. It was suffocating, and he wanted to flee as soon as he arrived, each day. The corridors illumination cut a swath of light across the decking, and the patch of light traveled to the edge of Sunstreaker's berth, but no further. Even the light shied away from Sunstreaker these days, as though afraid it, too, would be caught in the maelstrom of his anger.

Sideswipe moved quickly, crossing to their berthside table and depositing his premixed cube of warm energon for his brother.

Sunstreaker's voice startled Sideswipe. He jumped, nearly upsetting the cube just barely out of his hands. "Don't bring me another cube," Sunstreaker choked out.

"I'm just trying to help. Don't you see that?" Sideswipe snapped.

"There's no more need."

Sideswipe froze as the full realization of just what Sunstreaker had said, had implied, sank in. It was over. It was done. It was gone. Everything.

Sideswipe stared at his brother's back. When had this happened? When had Sunstreaker had the surgery? Why hadn't he wanted Sideswipe there with him? Why hadn't he told him? Sideswipe's spark lurched, mourning suddenly for something he didn't even know he had wanted, or even missed. He turned away. It was finally too much, and he couldn't deal with it anymore. He fled, running from their quarters.

Sideswipe slammed himself into the corridor bulkhead, then punched at the plating, once, twice. He screamed, gritting his denta and choking the sound until it was a faint whimper. Sideswipe's arm rose, and he braced his forearm above his helm, sagging into the bulkhead. His whole body slumped, leaning into his forearm as if it were the only thing holding him up. It was all gone. His tanks churned, and his spark lurched once more. Everything was gone. Forever.

Sideswipe pushed back as the pain crested. His vents heaved, again and again, and he began to run. He tore down the hallways, then finally transformed as he neared the _Ark_ entrance. His tires squealed as he tore up an enormous dust cloud, and his engine redlined as he sped away from _Ark_ as fast as he could.

He screamed the entire way.

* * *

Sunstreaker paused outside the medbay doors. It was time. He'd spent the night tossing and turning, and he'd never managed to fall into a full recharge cycle. He was exhausted, and the cube his brother had brought him was, once again, a too-painful offering. His brother's words bounced around his helm; of course he saw what Sideswipe was doing. He always did the same thing: he'd pretend to care. He'd pretend to feel. It was never real.

Still, the cube had fueled his systems through the morning and had finally brought him to this moment.

Sunstreaker's hands shook slightly as he palmed at the medbay chime. Ratchet had privacy locked the medbay all day, and Sunstreaker was his only patient. No one would be able to interrupt their surgery. Sunstreaker's fingers nearly vibrated off the palm pad just before Ratchet signaled the doors to open.

"Hello, Sunstreaker," Ratchet said, standing just inside the doorway. "Please come to my office."

Sunstreaker followed Ratchet to the medic's private office. He sank into one of the chairs situated across from his desk as Ratchet sat down on the other side. The Teletraan terminal was tilted, displaying to both sides of the desk. Ratchet keyed the display on, then grabbed one of his medical access cables and moved back around to Sunstreaker's side. "Alright, Sunstreaker, I just need to get some baseline vitals from you right now." He paused, waiting for Sunstreaker to allow him access to his medical access junction on the back of his neck.

Sunstreaker leaned forward, dropping his helm down between his shoulders and exposing his neck junction to Ratchet. Ratchet plugged one end of his cable into the terminal, then slotted the other into Sunstreaker's access port. Sunstreaker groaned slightly as the medical connection was established, then watched out of the corner of his optics as his information was displayed over the terminal screen. His energy levels, his recharge status, the condition of his lines, cables, and internals were all displayed for Ratchet's purview. In addition, a flashing, pulsing notice scrolled across the bottom: "Sparkling health status: Good. Gestation Period: Primary. Full Exam Recommended."

Ratchet frowned slightly. "Your recharge levels are low. Are you getting your recharge, Sunstreaker?"

"Most nights," Sunstreaker grunted. "Last night was... difficult."

Ratchet said nothing. Finally, he unhooked the med cable from Sunstreaker's neck junction. Sunstreaker's medical information stayed displayed over the terminal's screen as Ratchet moved back to his side of the desk.

"Alright. Your recharge levels are still within the acceptable band for the allowing safe sedation, and your energon and additives intakes are good. We can go ahead and proceed." Ratchet motioned to the terminal displaying Sunstreaker's medical info as he met Sunstreaker's optics again. "Let me walk you through the process." Ratchet keyed up a new set of information, displaying several diagrams of a standard mech's internal systems and framework around their protoform. The top slides were removed, and the reproduction systems and gears were highlighted on the faceless, nameless mech's diagram.

A small mass of metal rested within the mech's reproduction chamber, suspended in an electric fluid mixture derived from the mech's energon intakes. The energy was stripped and used throughout the body from the energon fluid intake, and the remaining liquid was redirected from cooling, lubrication, and circulation and sent towards the reproduction chamber to cushion the sparkling's growth. The reproduction chamber had also extended a series of newly created lines and tubules to many of the mech's internal energon lines. Those harvested the energy, the ores to build and grow the sparkling, and the fluids for the chamber itself directly from the source of the energon within the mech's internal lines.

Extending upwards from the reproduction chamber was a sparkline of energy, connecting the carrier mech's spark to the reproduction chamber. The sparkling's own spark grew as an outgrowth of the carrier's spark, and contained both energies of the parent mechs from the sparking interface. Carrier mechs began to feel a pressure and presence within their spark early on, as if they were in a permanent spark merge with another. As the sparkling grew, the beginnings of their personality, their identity, their indefinable presence exerted itself on the carrier's spark. It was the feeling of a whole new mech.

The sparkline also sustained the growing sparkling's body mass within the carrier and spurred the continued growth of the sparkling's body. The code of the sparkling, containing everything that the sparkling would be in a physical sense, was housed within its new and growing spark, and the information was transmitted constantly down the sparkline. Once the body was as developed as it would get within the carrier mech, the spark would separate from the carrier's spark and travel down the sparkline to join with its new body. At that point, the emergence process would begin, and the carrier would begin to expel the sparkling from his own internals.

Sunstreaker stared at the diagrams blankly. He had been reading Ratchet's data pad on sparkling gestation and the changes it brought to a mech's body, but the words, phrases, and descriptions had melded together into a nearly indecipherable string of medical descriptions and unfathomable processes. Now, staring at what was happening within his body, Sunstreaker didn't know how to react. His fingers stretched out, tracing gently over the diagrammed sparkline extending downward to the pretend sparkling.

"That represents the sparkline sustaining the growth mass." Ratchet kept his language dry and technical. "That will be severed under sedation. The sparkline will fade, and the growth mass will no longer have the prompting or coding to survive." Ratchet watched Sunstreaker carefully. The yellow twin hadn't moved and was still staring at the diagram. "The new spark will be subsumed back into your own within a few days, though you will feel a burning sensation for a little while."

"And the sparkling's body?" Sunstreaker asked, his fingers trailing over the small mass of diagrammed metal that would eventually be the nameless mech's sparkling.

"It has to be surgically removed. I can remove your abdominal plating and extract the mass through your protoform with a small incision. You will still be under sedation from the severance of the sparkline." Ratchet paused again, still watching Sunstreaker. "The whole procedure can take as long as six to twelve hours, depending on how long it takes for the growth mass to cease functioning. You will be sedated for the entire time."

Sunstreaker nodded slowly, still absorbing everything Ratchet had told him. His optics, and his fingers, remained glued on the diagram. It had been close to what he had imagined, but the shock of seeing it all before him, even presented as dryly as Ratchet had done, still ran through him. His spark burned, as if it had already been severed, and his processor was firing too rapidly. Too many thoughts were racing through his processor, thoughts about Sideswipe, about what they had done, about what they had lost, but all Sunstreaker could do was trace the diagrammed sparkline, again and again.

"I'm ready," Sunstreaker whispered, still tracing the sparkline. "Let's begin."

Ratchet nodded slowly. He choked back his own sigh of remorse at the procedure and stood, finally grabbing Sunstreaker's attention. "Let's go. I've set up berth six for you." Ratchet motioned for Sunstreaker to rise and precede him out of the office. Sunstreaker gripped down hard on the chair's armrests as he pushed himself upwards.

Ratchet brushed by Sunstreaker once they left the office, moving to berth six to finish prepping for the procedure. He onlined the terminals, calling up the diagnostics as he began to strip and spike the lines of sedatives for Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker watched it all as he slowly walked across the medbay, step by slow step. His optics took in everything, from the locked doors to the hanging trellis supporting the bags of sedatives, to Ratchet puttering with his tools at the berthside, to the lights, which seemed far too overbright to. He didn't remember them being so painfully bright before today. He swallowed, then stepped forward again, ignoring the shaking in his hands.

His thoughts turned once again to Sideswipe. He'd nearly broken earlier and had almost called out for his brother. He hated being alone, more than anything. A lifetime of abandonment, starting from his sparkling years, had revealed to him with crystal clarity just what his weakness was. It hurt, so much, what Sideswipe had done to him, over and over again. He didn't want to do this alone, he didn't want to do this in secret, he didn't want to be so entirely isolated from anyone's care or affection. He couldn't figure out why he was abandoned continuously throughout his life, especially by Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker's trembling grew as he made his way to the berth. He clenched his fingers into fists, hoping to hide their shaking. He was glad Sideswipe wasn't there. He couldn't imagine his brother seeing him so weak, so needy. Sideswipe would pity him, pity him entirely, and then it would all be over. Sideswipe would know, know all about how horribly weak and fragile Sunstreaker was. He couldn't take that; he couldn't take his brother's pity. Sideswipe had his own life, full of friends and partners and meaning, and it didn't include Sunstreaker. Not where it mattered. Not where he wanted it.

Ratchet helped him gently stretch out on the berth. Sunstreaker kept his hands balled into fists at his sides, and his backstruts arched impossibly tight, nearly pushing him up off the berth. Ratchet pulled another medcable from the Teletraan terminal behind Sunstreaker at the berthhead and plugged it into Sunstreaker's neck access once more. Sunstreaker turned his helm slightly, granting just enough room to fit the plug in. His vitals instantly displayed over the terminal screen, once again flashing the notice about the healthy sparkling within his body. Sunstreaker read the words upside down, repeating them in his mind.

Ratchet turned away, working the final processes for the sedation spike on his side tray. Sunstreaker's trembling continued, growing as he tried to fight it. He shook, quaking under the complete fear that had shot through his system suddenly. What would happen now? Where would he go? Where would they, he and Sideswipe, go? The answers, the only ones he could think of, were each dark and horribly lonely, and none spoke of a future with any care for him. He would be alone. Again.

He was destroying the last connection to Sideswipe he'd ever have. He was destroying it, ripping it apart, removing it entirely from his body, even as his spark yearned for his brother's presence. He was destroying the only proof he had that there had been, once, something tender, though twisted and strange and not understood, between them. There had been something. Something Sunstreaker had cherished.

Sunstreaker offlined his optics as Ratchet turned back toward him. He didn't want to see Ratchet's pitying look, nor did he want to see the spike Ratchet had prepared for him. Sedatives would soon pull him under, and then it would be over. Part of him hoped the sedatives never wore off, and that he could remain blissfully offline forever.

Ratchet stared down at Sunstreaker's quaking body. His face, normally so arrogantly impassive, was twisted and contorted, and his entire body was shaking. His vitals were skyrocketing, and his tanks were churning faster and faster as his spark pulsed furiously. He'd need at least a double dose of sedative at these levels.

Ratchet set the sedative spike down on his tray. "Sunny, I'm not going to do this."

Sunstreaker exhaled explosively, then rocked onto his side. His optics surged online and he glared at Ratchet. "I need you to do this," Sunstreaker growled. Even his vocalizer shook. "I _need _this."

Ratchet shook his helm. "No, Sunstreaker. You're shaking. Your vitals are off the chart." Ratchet paused as Sunstreaker growled again. "Do you even want to do this?"

Sunstreaker exploded, pulling himself into a sitting position on the berth. "I told you!" He shouted. "I can't have it! It doesn't matter what I want!"

"Frag that, Sunstreaker!" Ratchet shot back, exasperated. "You haven't even told the other parent. Why are you so convinced you can't have this sparkling?"

"I can't..."

"Why?" Ratchet's hands came down on either side of Sunstreaker's legs on the berth, and he pushed his face into Sunstreaker's, demanding. "Why can't you have this sparkling?"

Sunstreaker heaved, panting, glaring furiously into Ratchet's optics. His mouth twisted, trying to restrain his pained sob, but it broke free in a rush of air. "...Because he doesn't want me!" Sunstreaker shouted at Ratchet. "He doesn't want me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!" Sunstreaker's trembling turned into full body shakes, and he howled as the pain of his admission suddenly overwhelmed what little control he had over his systems. His helm fell forward, and Sunstreaker shouted through gritted denta.

Ratchet stared at the golden twin in shock. He couldn't think, couldn't process what Sunstreaker had said. He couldn't think of a single mech that would turn away their partner, but he also couldn't think of a single mech who would spark Sunstreaker. The whole situation was surreal, and Ratchet was tired of the secrecy and duplicity. He sighed. "What do **you** want, Sunny?" He moved his hands, placing them gently on Sunstreaker's heaving shoulders.

Sunstreaker didn't answer for a long moment. Finally, he spoke. "Him," he choked out. "I want him..." His voice was only slightly louder than a whisper.

Ratchet once again didn't know what to say. He was overwhelmed with this new side to Sunstreaker he was seeing, the vulnerable, pained side. He'd always suspected something deeper ran within Sunstreaker, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

Sunstreaker's helm lifted, and fractured optics met Ratchet's. "What's broken in me, Ratchet?" Sunstreaker whispered. "Why aren't I loveable?"

Ratchet's mouth dropped open. He had no idea what to say, at all. He couldn't speak, and instead of trying, he pulled Sunstreaker forward until his forehelm was resting on his windshield and he could feel each of Sunstreaker's trembles through his own plating. Ratchet's arms circled around Sunstreaker's shoulders in a loose hug. This was the very last thing he had ever expected.

* * *

Sideswipe sat alone on a boulder, watching the sun set. He'd driven for the entire day, and his energy levels were near depletion. His body ached, from his feet to his cables and lines, but nothing matched the pain in his spark. He didn't even know if he could go back to the _Ark_.

A shadow fell over his body, obscuring the red sunlight across the colored rocks. A tall body silhouetted across the sand, framed by a high-held set of doorwings. "Hi, Smokescreen," Sideswipe said, barely speaking at all.

Smokescreen drew closer, staring at the red twin. Sideswipe had disappeared earlier, and it had taken Smokescreen all day to locate him. He wasn't answering his comm, and no one knew where he had disappeared. That wasn't like Sideswipe, especially not recently. "I know something is wrong," Smokescreen began. "Whatever it is... I'm sorry. I want to help, if I can. I'm worried about you, Sideswipe. I'm really worried." Smokescreen stood over Sideswipe's silent body.

Sideswipe didn't answer right away. Finally, he spoke, breaking the silence and his impenetrable cloud of depression. "Sunstreaker and I are breaking up," he whispered.

Smokescreen frowned, staring at Sideswipe in confusion. "What?"

Sideswipe swallowed. "That's what it feels like, I mean," he lied quickly. "We're... We were close. Now... We're not."

"Did something happen?" Smokescreen stepped forward slowly, staring at Sideswipe's profile.

Sideswipe drew his lower lip into his mouth as he inhaled, and his optics squinted into the setting sun. He shook his helm. "No," he whispered, lying. "We're just... Growing apart."

Smokescreen stepped forward again, and he reached out, resting his hand on Sideswipe's shoulder. "That's normal, isn't it? People change... Things happen..." He squeezed, trying to reassure his friend, though his words were lame and horribly weak.

Sideswipe tried to nod, but it hurt too much. "I know," Sideswipe whispered. "We've been so close, for so long... He's part of me. Part of my spark. Part of my life. I've never thought of being without him..." Sideswipe swallowed again, and he lowered his helm, staring at the sand. "I never thought this would happen..."

Smokescreen moved closer, and he sat next to his friend as his arm wound around Sideswipe's waist. Sideswipe sighed, shuddering at the contact, and Smokescreen squeezed him tighter in a sideways hug.

"It hurts..." Sideswipe whispered. "I didn't want to lose him." Smokescreen squeezed Sideswipe again, and he leaned his helm against his friend's shoulder. All he could do was be there for Sideswipe.

They sat immobile for a long time. Smokescreen continued to hold his friend, trying to impart some level of comfort. All he could do was show his care, show his concern. Finally, Sideswipe wound his own arm back around Smokescreen's waist. The pain was still there, and it was still crushing his spark entirely. Sunstreaker had made his choices though, and each of his actions, each of his choices had pushed Sideswipe further and further away. His love, his lifelong, terrible, forbidden love was now being crushed. Extinguished.

Sideswipe leaned his helm against Smokescreen's, resting against his shoulder. He squeezed back, holding Smokescreen in an answering hug as the sun continued to set before them. "Thank you," Sideswipe whispered. "You're a good friend."

Smokescreen smiled sadly as the words hit his spark. He'd always be Sideswipe's friend... But he couldn't help wanting more. "Anytime," he whispered back.

* * *

Sideswipe slowly moved down the _Ark_'s corridors toward his and Sunstreaker's quarters. He'd have to move out soon. They'd have to live apart in the future, for the first time in their lives. Sideswipe swallowed again, and he struggled to trudge forward. He'd asked to stay outside longer, and Smokescreen had left him alone after only a small bit of reassurance. Sideswipe had waited until the sun had set, pouring his entire spark and the depth of his pain into the loss of the sunlight. He had sobbed silently before he transformed and returned to the _Ark_.

He didn't want to return, not at all. He didn't want to come back to the shambles of his life and return to their quarters, and all that had happened between them was sending his spark tumbling once more. Sideswipe paused outside his door. How many times had he hated this very moment over the past month? How many times had he girded his spark for pain and torment on the other side of the door? How many times had he silently yearned, silently longed for everything he couldn't have? It was too much, too painful, and he didn't want to face it anymore.

Sideswipe glared at the sealed door. Why was he doing this to himself? There wasn't anything there for him. Sunstreaker had only angrily tolerated his twisted love for years. Sideswipe offlined his optics. He could turn away. He could walk away from the pain, from the anger, from the hurt and their horrible past.

Smokescreen's faceplates flashed in front of his optics. He had friends. He had mechs that loved him, loved him for who he was. Smokescreen truly loved him and had for a while.

How silly of him. How ridiculous. He had known, since before they had joined the Autobots, how wrong this was. Still, his spark had been stubborn, and Sideswipe had craved the love he could never have.

No more. Sideswipe pushed himself away, pushed back from their quarters. He wasn't going to hurt himself any longer, not in this way. Not in this hopeless, hurtful way. Sideswipe walked quickly, his footfalls taking him further and faster away from the pain. He finally stopped, finally halted at a new set of doors.

* * *

Smokescreen checked his chronometer in confusion as his doorchime sounded repeatedly. It was late, and most mechs were already in recharge. He'd privately asked Hot Spot at comms to let him know when Sideswipe came back to the _Ark_, and the red twin had been onboard for a little while. He, too, should be in recharge, especially after his day. Smokescreen palmed his door open.

Sideswipe waited on the other side, his optics blazing.

"Siders..." Smokescreen gripped Sideswipe's wrist and dragged him into his quarters gently. "Are you alright?" Sideswipe shook his helm. His hands rose, trembling as he placed them both on Smokescreen's hips and tried to draw the doorwinged mech closer to him.

Smokescreen pushed back. "Sideswipe..." He groaned, trying to shift away. "Don't..." His doorwings flared, spreading wide.

Sideswipe rested his forehelm on the top of Smokescreen's. "I know how you feel, Smokey," Sideswipe whispered. "I've been... hurting, and distracted. But, you're always there... You're always caring for me. You don't know what that means to me..."

"Sideswipe... I don't want just one night." Smokescreen paused, swallowing before he spoke. "I want it all..."

Sideswipe nodded, not speaking. He offlined his optics. This was warm, and it was real, and Sideswipe kept telling himself that this was what love really was.

He pushed Sunstreaker's image out of his processor as best he could.

* * *

Sunstreaker counted the minutes left in the night shift. He was curled up tight, laying on his side on his berth and facing their door. He had stopped lying to himself hours ago. He really was waiting for Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker had stayed in the medbay for the rest of the afternoon. Ratchet had let him get it all out, but blissfully didn't ask him any more questions. He put Sunstreaker into recharge for a bit, after Sunstreaker had extracted several promises that Ratchet wouldn't perform the surgery while Sunstreaker was offline. When he had woken, Ratchet performed a full sparkling exam, and Sunstreaker got to see his own diagram of himself and his sparkling. "I'll talk to him," Sunstreaker had promised in a whisper to Ratchet as he left, promising to talk to the other parent, still unknown to the medic. "I will."

He'd gone back to their quarters straight away and had spent the rest of the night waiting.

Waiting, it seemed, for nothing.

Sideswipe always came back if he wasn't on duty. He always came home, even during this horrible month. He should have been home, back in their quarters. He should have already come back.

Sunstreaker knew, with painful, crystal clarity, just what it meant when Sideswipe didn't come home. It burned, stinging him deeply each time, as deeply as the very first time it had happened. He didn't know why he wanted Sideswipe so much. His brother was a liar, a cheat, and treated other mech's feelings with his customary cavalier attitude.

Still... Sunstreaker waited, staying online the entire night with futile hope that in the next minute, Sideswipe would return.

He never did.

Sunstreaker pushed himself upwards as his chronometer chimed to wake him from his non-existent recharge. His optics stared at his empty berthside table, then over at his brother's empty berth.

He was, once again, alone.

* * *

_Musical accompaniment: watch?v=CCFSIdNRb1U - _I did not make this. - Youtube, btw. 'Bot ate the first bit of the URL


	6. Chapter 6

**Unintended Six**

* * *

Starscream stared at the transmissions in disbelief. Soundwave's plan had seemed desperate, had seemed far-fetched, but Megatron had agreed that some information was better than none. It slayed him that their idiotic plan had actually produced results.

Skywarp leaned against the cave wall, projecting an air of bored disinterest as he picked at the paint flecks on his fingertips. His optics flicked over Starscream before he frowned. "What is it?" Skywarp asked, snapping at his trine leader. "You're spending too much time on this ridiculous errand."

Starscream twisted, glancing at his trinemate over his wing. "We may have just solved all our problems."

Skywarp straightened, pushing himself off the cave wall as he peered into his trine leader's sly optics.

They raced back to Megatron's deeply hidden base, buried in the wilderness of the Northern Canadian forests and icelands. They pushed harder than they had in the past, burning more energy and fuel than was allowed. Starscream didn't care. Megatron would have to give him extra energon after this little tidbit of information was delivered. Skywarp hadn't completely understood, but after Starscream attempted to explain to his slower, brutish trinemate, Skywarp had been possibly more excited that Starscream. Then again, Skywarp had always loved the battles more than Starscream. The chance to regain power once more, and to slag Autobots again, was nearly as delicious as the expected energon Starscream could already feel slipping over his glossa.

Thundercracker was waiting for them as they landed, hurriedly transforming just before the entrance to their cave. "You're late," Thundercracker snapped.

Skywarp rushed his trinemate, punching Thundercracker's shoulder before clapping his helm and roughly shaking it between his hands. Thundercracker's arms gripped Skywarp's shoulders, trying to contain his aggressive trinemate. "We have good news," Skywarp whispered, gripping Thundercracker's helm tightly.

"Shut your mouth!" Starscream hissed. Thundercracker managed to wiggle out of Skywarp's clutches as Starscream smacked his purple trinemate. Skywarp grinned at Starscream and slung an arm around Thundercracker's shoulders. Starscream shook his helm, then started inside their cave. Skywarp continued to grin as he knocked his helm against Thundercracker's before following their trine leader.

Starscream moved quickly through the winding cave corridors. Soundwave's cassettes had grumbled their way through the construction of their hidden base, and though it was dank, dark, and deep underground, their base was far superior to the scattered cells and hidden hideaways the rest of the divided army was currently existing in. Earth had united against the Decepticons, and the complete blockade of their spacebridge technology from Earth's satellite shield effectively cut off the Decepticons on Earth from Shockwave's forces in his space fleet surrounding Cybertron's dead husk.

Starscream's quick gait slowed, shifting to a prideful saunter as he approached the main cavern and their operating center. The few working terminals they still had were scattered and buried against the rock walls. Cables, lines, and wires crisscrossed and ascended through the cavern, powering and transmitting their secreted computers and pirated communications and energy and feeds. Soundwave worked diligently to keep it all together.

Megatron's raspy voice carried through the corridors and echoed through the darkness. Dim light shone from the cavern's main room down the corridor as Starscream drew closer. Starscream paused, halting in the doorway and propped his hands on his hips.

Megatron briefly glanced at Starscream before he turned back to the computer terminal. "Anything?" he growled. Megatron had nearly given up hope of anything coming from Soundwave's plan, something that was quite obvious when he began to dispatch Starscream to check their transmission bursts. Soundwave had allowed himself to be captured several months ago during their entirely fake assault on the Autobots, and then had managed to download a tracing and eavesdropping subroutine while he was in the Autobots' medbay. The recorded and pirated files were piggybacked on outgoing transmission bursts, disguised within the data stream and too small to detect. Soundwave, and then Starscream, traveled to the cave containing the receiver and computer terminal that reconstructed the transmission into useable files once every couple of weeks. Not every transmission came through, and many files were corrupted. Still, the prospect of learning valuable weaknesses from their enemies was a tantalizing suggestion, and one Megatron had eagerly pursued.

"I want a cube," Starscream purred.

Megatron stopped his quiet conversation with Soundwave as Starscream spoke. Rumble and Frenzy, each trying to untangle a mess of repaired wires across the cavern, stopped their actions and stared at Starscream. Skywarp and Thundercracker made their noisy entrance behind Starscream, framing their trine leader.

Megatron turned and peered at his Air Commander. "What did you find?"

Starscream grinned and shook his helm. "No. First, I want a cube."

"You really think what you have to say is worth all that?" Megatron scoffed as he crossed his arms, and his cannon rested over his chestplates. Soundwave turned around as well, and his red visor pulsed as he stared silently at Starscream.

"What I have to say will change everything," Starscream purred again. He slid forward, moving slowly into the cavern. "I can now solve our energon shortage. I can engineer new technologies. Weapons, defenses, energy conducers. I can work on breaking the humans' ridiculous satellite shield. I can solve all our problems. I have discovered a way to secure our energy solutions and repower our dominion." Starscream moved slowly closer to Megatron. "I deserve a cube."

Megatron stared Starscream down. Finally, he turned and crossed to the secured locker they stored their diminished energon supplies in. He entered the unlocking code and slowly withdrew one of their rations. Megatron turned, holding it high and in Starscream's view. "Tell me how you can do this," Megatron called out. "And you may get this cube."

"One of the Autobots is sparked. He's in his primary gestation period." Megatron's optics blazed, surging bloody crimson after Starscream's words.

Rumble and Frenzy stared at each in confusion. "What's the big deal with that?" Rumble whispered. Frenzy shrugged, then elbowed his brother as Megatron moved to stand in front of Starscream.

"You can harvest this sparkling proto-energy?" Megatron rasped. His gaze was intense, burning into Starscream's.

Starscream nodded, slowly.

Megatron grinned, slow and feral. He held Starscream's gaze as he turned and strode back over to the computer terminal. Megatron smirked at Starscream over his shoulder just before he passed the energon cube to Soundwave. "Congratulations, Soundwave. Your plan has produced excellent results."

Soundwave accepted the cube soundlessly, then tucked it into his subspace. Rumble and Frenzy grinned at each other. Soundwave would share that cube with all of them later, privately.

Starscream glared at Megatron.

* * *

Sunstreaker's world was numb. He knew he had to report to duty in an hour, but that fact seemed distant and unimportant when set against the total collapse of his world. He was exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. His berth was calling, beckoning him to recharge, but at the same time, he wanted to never lie on its surface again. That was where he and Sideswipe had come together. That was where they had made their sparkling.

"Jazz to Sunstreaker." Jazz's smooth voice shattered the heavy stillness of Sunstreaker's quarters.

Sunstreaker started. "What do you want?"

"Morning to you too, Sunshine," Jazz drawled. "Listen, there's a new PR request that came across the comm lines yesterday. I just saw it." Jazz normally didn't pay much attention to the PR requests. "This one sounds interesting, and I thought of you."

Sunstreaker frowned. Jazz knew, slag, everybody knew Sunstreaker barely tolerated the humans. Even without this horrible month and his complete and total disaster with Sideswipe, Sunstreaker still would have been bitter and reclusive while the humans were infesting the _Ark_ and watching their exercises and maneuvers. Sunstreaker hated parading and playing for the humans. They should be thankful that the Autobots were here at all to save them from Megatron. The humans had no idea what the Decepticons truly were.

"Why?" Sunstreaker snapped.

"It's a car show," Jazz replied smoothly. "I thought you and I could go." Sunstreaker couldn't stand the humans most times, yes. But there was one weak spot of his: Sunstreaker liked to be acknowledged. He liked to be better. He was handsome, Primusly so, in both mech and alt mode, and he liked when that was noticed. "It's a last minute request to join the Detroit Autoshow, and then the show circuit. They sent it after the negotiations were final. We'd be the honored guests there, and around the country if we wanted to keep going."

Sunstreaker frowned. Showing off was the last thing on his processor at this point. Still, something tugged at Sunstreaker's processor. He had a fuzzy idea of where 'Detroit' was, and if he remembered correctly, it was far away. Leaving sounded perfect just then. Fleeing, getting away, running from this nightmare and from Sideswipe and from their horrible mistake. _'Detroit and the rest of the country…'_

"When do we leave?" Sunstreaker grunted.

"Well, that's the thing," Jazz sighed. "We'd have to leave early this morning to drive out there in time to make the opening. Are you interested?"

Sunstreaker didn't have to think anymore. Leaving right away, and heading far from here, far from Sideswipe. "I can be ready in an hour."

"Great!" Jazz said. His happiness was evident over the comm. line. "I'll take care of your shifts, grab our supplies, and meet you at the blast doors." Jazz had been certain that Sunstreaker would demand at least a half-day to prepare himself in the washracks. "It'll be good to get out a bit. See you soon, Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker grunted his affirmation before he closed the comm line. He sighed, rolling his helm back until he was looking up at his ceiling. He wanted to leave, he wanted to already be gone… and yet, at the same time, he just wanted to crawl back into his berth. Sideswipe's face, hesitantly glancing at him before dropping Sunstreaker's morning cube and fleeing, played over his vision. His brother hadn't said anything when Sunstreaker had told him he was taking care of their sparkling. He had simply left, turned and walked out. Sideswipe had to be relieved. He thought Sunstreaker was getting rid of their problem.

Sunstreaker was hit suddenly with a sharp stab of pain, straight in his spark. Sideswipe had only stayed this past month out of some false sense of duty. He never truly cared about what had happened. He was just making sure Sunstreaker made it until he could get rid of their sparkling, and that he didn't collapse again and reveal their secret to everyone.

Sunstreaker's helm dropped down, hanging low between his shoulders as he sighed explosively. What had his life come to? Emptiness and abandonment, and a lifetime of terrible choices.

He stood, then gathered all of the additive tubes from their console table and shoved them into a small, empty packing bag for his no-longer-used pulse rifle and laser cartridge cores. His rifle was propped up against their bulkhead next to their flatscreen TV, unused and uncared for for over a month… much like him.

Sunstreaker glanced around the room. He picked up Ratchet's datapad and subspaced that along with his additives. He spared one last glance over their cold, bitter quarters before he turned and quickly left.

He didn't know when he'd be back. It hurt too much to stay.

* * *

Ratchet had spent all night thinking of Sunstreaker. He'd been distracted and quiet, and though Wheeljack had been concerned, he didn't push. Ratchet was a moody mech at times and sometimes carried his work back to their quarters. In the long years of the war, Wheeljack had listened to many tirades against the minibots, the twins, or the dangers of combat. Each tirade was a way for Ratchet to vent his own frustration, anger, and often times fear over their wartime situation.

Since the sharing and then transfer of responsibilities and the significant lessening of combat causalities, Ratchet had had far fewer moody evenings or angry tirades. He had relaxed considerably, and Wheeljack knew the stresses of the war had eased their burden on Ratchet's shoulders. They weren't entirely gone, but Ratchet didn't have the clawing air of anticipation or fear around him at night any longer.

Except for last night. It was odd, seeing Ratchet suddenly plunged back into his old patterns of anxiety and frustration. Wheeljack didn't know what had happened to send his lover back into his worry, and he didn't know how to approach the subject. In the past, Ratchet would explode, vent and rage, then collapse into Wheeljack's arms. This time, Ratchet stewed in silence.

"I'll be there soon, 'Jack," he had said, squeezing Wheeljack's hand gently before letting go.

Wheeljack stayed up for hours waiting for Ratchet to come to their berth. When he finally did, Ratchet's arms wrapped tight around Wheeljack's waist, and his face pressed hard into the crook of Wheeljack's neck. After years of being together, Wheeljack knew every one of Ratchet's movements and actions. He knew by Ratchet's breathing that his lover was not in, nor close to, recharge. He finally fell offline in Ratchet's arms, though Ratchet was still awake.

Ratchet was gone in the morning when Wheeljack awoke.

* * *

Ratchet was sitting in his office, pouring over Sunstreaker's physical exam from the previous afternoon. His sparkling was healthy and progressing normally, and Sunstreaker's health was better than it had been in years. Sunstreaker was clearly taking care of himself and his sparkling. Despite Sunstreaker's gruff, angry exterior, there was a deeper mech inside, one who sincerely cared far more than any of them had ever suspected.

Ratchet had been stunned to speechlessness at Sunstreaker's revelations and sobs the day before. Sunstreaker was their strongest mech. He was the mech you didn't have to care about; he cared about himself too much. He was self-sufficient, he was proud, he was arrogant even. He didn't need anyone. He didn't want anyone.

That illusion had been shattered the day prior. Sunstreaker had trembled apart in Ratchet's arms, desperately wishing for an unknown mech to love him. That, more than anything else, had fractured Ratchet's spark. He had never known Sunstreaker had that depth of feeling or had yearned for another so strongly. Some mech, somehow, had captured Sunstreaker's spark completely.

Ratchet was lost and confused within his own thoughts on Sunstreaker when the golden twin himself walked through the medbay doors. His optics were dim, his shoulders slumped. Sunstreaker met Ratchet's optics silently.

Ratchet stood as Sunstreaker walked in. His optics raked over Sunstreaker's body, taking in the evidence of exhaustion and lack of recharge. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

"How… how did it go?" Ratchet asked, hesitantly.

Sunstreaker reached into his subspace and pulled out a small packing case. He shook his helm, not meeting Ratchet's gaze. "Not very good."

Ratchet sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry, Sunstreaker." His words seemed inadequate, especially faced with Sunstreaker's immense pain from yesterday.

Sunstreaker still wouldn't meet his gaze. "I'm leaving with Jazz," he started, speaking quietly. "We're-"

"Jazz?" Ratchet interrupted. That was not one of the mechs he would have expected.

Sunstreaker finally met Ratchet's gaze. He frowned, tilting his helm in that arrogant way of his. "He's not the parent."

Ratchet nodded. That action was so much like the Sunstreaker he knew. "Sorry." Ratchet frowned. "Where are you going? For how long?"

"Jazz and I are going to a car show. We'll be driving to the first one in Detroit, then possibly joining the circuit as it travels around the country."

Ratchet stared at Sunstreaker in disbelief. "Are you joking? You're carrying, Sunstreaker. This isn't the time to go gallivanting around the country on wild drives. You need to take care of yourself!"

Sunstreaker frowned at Ratchet. He opened his packing case, displaying the remaining tubes of additives for Ratchet to see. "I know that," Sunstreaker said. "I need more of these. I don't know how long we'll be gone, and I only have six days left."

Ratchet stared at Sunstreaker's additives, then up at his face. "You intend to keep your sparkling?"

Sunstreaker's fingers trailed over the tubes as he inhaled deeply. "I don't know, Ratchet. I need to think. I need… time and space. I need to get away." Sunstreaker's helm rose, and he stared into Ratchet's gaze. "Do you have any more additives?"

Silence filled the office for a long moment. Finally, Ratchet nodded. "I've synthesized a second batch. I'll give you ten days worth, Sunstreaker, but no more. I don't want you to go more than two weeks without medical care. There are too many things we don't know."

Sunstreaker nodded, and Ratchet moved across his office to a secured cubby and withdrew the new batch of ore additives. He divided out ten days worth, leaving behind the rest.

"There's one more thing, Sunstreaker," Ratchet said as Sunstreaker finished putting the last of the additives into his case. "I want to monitor you while you're gone."

"How?

"I want to put a medical monitor on you. It will alert me only if something happens to you or your sparkling. It will have a slight drain on your systems, but you're not going to skip any rations, right?" Ratchet's optics bored into Sunstreaker's. Sunstreaker shook his helm. "It will ping back over the humans' cellular towers when you're out of range of the _Ark_. I can slide it just inside your sideseam under your arm. No one will know it's there."

Sunstreaker nodded. "I leave in less than an hour. Can you put it in now?"

Ratchet sighed. Sunstreaker never made things easy. "It normally takes a little while, but sure. Let's do it now." Ratchet motioned for Sunstreaker to head out to the medbay. "Have you had your energon this morning, Sunny?"

Sunstreaker shook his helm as he walked in front of Ratchet. Ratchet shook his helm, then grabbed two cubes of energon and one of his newly synthesized tubes of additives. Sunstreaker headed to the first berth, and Ratchet set both cubes on the side tray before mixing in the additives to the first one. He smirked at Sunstreaker as he passed the cube over. "This isn't how you take care of yourself, Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker met Ratchet's optics briefly over the edge of his cube. He took a small sip. "I'll do better."

Ratchet smiled at Sunstreaker. "You've been taking good care of yourself so far, Sunny. Keep it up, and your sparkling will be here in no time, happy and healthy." He smiled, trying to cheer the quiet golden twin.

Sunstreaker stared down into his cube. Ratchet's hand reached out, gently squeezing Sunstreaker's shoulder. Sunstreaker rocked gently under Ratchet's touch, still sipping his cube. His optics remained downcast, forlorn. "Here," Ratchet said softly. "Let's get that monitor hooked up."

Sunstreaker shifted, then obligingly raised his left arm. Ratchet started prepping his plating, then slowly separated and positioned his spacers. Sunstreaker kept sipping his cube as Ratchet gathered the monitor and attachment cables in. Sunstreaker handed him the empty cube and Ratchet placed it on the tray next to the second, full one. He picked the second one up and passed it back to Sunstreaker.

"Drink up," Ratchet said. "You're going on a long drive. You can use the extra ration."

Sunstreaker lifted his arm again as Ratchet inserted the monitor and attached it to his sensor net. He sipped at his new cube, allowing the fresh, extra energy to course through his lines. It helped sooth his power levels, but did nothing for the pain in his spark.

* * *

Sideswipe lay awake on Smokescreen's berth. His optics gazed upwards blankly, staring at the ceiling and at nothing at all. Smokescreen was curled against his side, solidly offline and blissfully in recharge.

They had fallen into Smokescreen's berth in a tangle of arms and legs. Smokescreen curled up at Sideswipe's side, smiling and happy. Sideswipe took his hand, gently twining their fingers together before they both fell into recharge.

Sideswipe didn't stay in recharge for long. His dreams were overflowing with images, memories and fantasies of Sunstreaker. He remembered everything, from their younger years to the confused times when they were trying to figure out what was taking over their systems. What attraction this was between them. How they tried to navigate their twisted love. Each time they gave in.

Yesterday, Sideswipe's entire world, his entire, Sunstreaker-shaped world, had come apart. They were over. They had never been anything to begin with. He had lost the one thing he never had, and the only thing he had ever wanted.

Smokescreen shifted, and Sideswipe schooled his features as Smokescreen's optics onlined. "Hey," Sideswipe whispered.

Smokescreen stared at Sideswipe for a silent moment before he smiled. "Hey, yourself," Smokescreen responded, just as softly. "How are you feeling?"

Sideswipe swallowed as his optics shifted back up to the ceiling. "I'm alright," he croaked.

"I don't understand Sunstreaker, but I do know that you two were close. I'm sorry for what's happening to you and your brother. It will take a while to get better, Siders… but I want to be here for you. Let me help you through this." Smokescreen swallowed, trying to be strong for Sideswipe.

Sideswipe didn't deserve this tenderness and care, and especially not from Smokescreen. He only wanted this from Sunstreaker, and he was rocked with simultaneous feelings of wanting to recoil from Smokescreen and his care and desperately wishing to fling himself into his arms and never let go. Sideswipe stared at Smokescreen as his optics widened in pain and his lips began to tremble.

"Siders…"

Sideswipe finally broke. He rolled, pressing his face into Smokescreen's neck and wrapping his arms and legs all around his blue and red body. Smokescreen's arms rose, gently stroking up and down Sideswipe's strong, broad shoulders.

Sideswipe offlined his optics and dimmed his audials. If he pretended, in the darkness of his mind, he could almost imagine it was Sunstreaker's arms holding him close, and his brother's warm body pressed against his own. The memories crashed in all around him, flooding his processor and swamping his memories. Sideswipe squeezed Smokescreen and buried his face deeper into the dark crook of his neck. He never wanted to remember the past. It hurt too much to do so.

* * *

"Sunstreaker? Are you ready to keep going?" Jazz gunned his engine a few times, thundering his intakes and pushing his throttle in time to both his music and his slight frustrations with their drive. They had been driving since mid morning, until Sunstreaker had demanded to stop driving and recharge for a short while in the afternoon. They had pulled off the interstate and tucked themselves in just outside a tiny rural town, and Sunstreaker had nearly instantaneously dropped into recharge within his alt mode.

Jazz hadn't wanted to stop. He was loving the drive, and the open road, and the feeling of finally getting out of the _Ark_. Since the turn of the war, and the humans' significant takeover in responsibilities for combating the Decepticons, Jazz had been feeling restless. He didn't want to think that he had become addicted to the adrenaline of the conflict, or that without a war, he suddenly lacked an organizational and professional meaning within his life. Jazz was slowly reworking and reorganizing his role within this new world, but his time at the _Ark_ with the humans, the pageantry, and his ever-decreasing role within their new world was contributing to a growing pall within his processor. Getting out, away from the _Ark_, and letting his processor fly with the drive was the best thing that had happened in months.

Sunstreaker slowly pushed himself back to fully online status. He had seriously underestimated his own energy reserves and his body's requirements. He'd thrown himself into battle without a thought or fear of a lack of a recent energon cube, and he'd gone days sitting at Sideswipe's berthside in the medbay without more than a single ration in the past. Now, with his sparkling steadily growing and sucking off his systems, combined with the absolute lack of recharge and his own emotional exhaustion, Sunstreaker could only watch in steadily growing horror as his energy reserves ticked down over the miles. He wasn't going to make it to Detroit without recharging. How was he going to explain that to Jazz?

Ultimately, he didn't. He was too exhausted and simply demanded to recharge. His body and his systems were demanding to rejuvenate their power cells, and the kinetic energy of the drive had charged up his generators to nearly max capacity. He needed to power down and allow his systems to equalize across his power net.

Sunstreaker ran a simple power check. "I'm ready," he grunted, igniting his engine. "Let's keep going."

Jazz throttled his engine happily and squealed out from their hiding spot, parked against a field on a damp dirt road. Sunstreaker followed distantly behind, trying to avoid Jazz's dirt spray from his exuberant driving. They caught up and fell back into their standard driving positions on the interstate.

"So what was that about?" Jazz asked finally after a steady period of silence.

"I didn't recharge well last night," Sunstreaker answered. He hadn't recharged at all. He'd been operating solely on the energon Ratchet had given him. That extra cube had been an absolute gift.

Jazz was silent. He had noticed Sunstreaker's dramatically increased frustration, hostility, and isolation over the past month, ever since the end of hostilities and the influx of the humans to the _Ark_. When this invitation had flashed into his Teletraan terminal, Jazz thought there would be only one other mech who would want to get out of the _Ark_ as much as he would. Sunstreaker agreed quickly, and even better, was ready to go right away.

Jazz had been surprised to see Sunstreaker meet him at the _Ark_ entrance that morning. The yellow twin, so normally fastidious and obsessive over his appearance, looked haggard, underpowered, and obviously hadn't been waxed in a while. He was clean, and had just come from the _Ark's_ washracks, but there wasn't the normal air of particular care and beauty that surrounded him. "Don't worry, Sunny, I brought some wax," Jazz said, clapping the yellow twin on his shoulder. He hadn't had time to wax either in the time he received the notice and decided to go.

Sunstreaker had stared at him intensely before slitting his optics. Jazz wisely decided to say nothing, and they both transformed and headed out several minutes later.

"It will be good to get away. This will be easy, Sunshine. Just smile and wave, show off a bit, and then we can relax the rest of the time." Jazz punched forward, zipping along the empty highway in a sudden burst of speed. Sunstreaker didn't follow, instead keeping his steady and sedate pace until he caught up with Jazz once more. "It will be good to get away," Jazz repeated, sighing into the wind.

Sunstreaker remained silent. His thoughts hadn't settled at all during their drive. Sideswipe and all their long, confusing history played out within his processor, interspersed with thoughts and images of their sparkling. What would happen now? Where would he go? Where would they, he and his sparkling, go? Sunstreaker didn't acknowledge to himself that even thinking about his sparkling in the future signaled his own timid acceptance of being a parent, albeit a reluctant one.

"It is good to get away," Sunstreaker finally replied.

* * *

Sideswipe only had enough courage to return to their quarters because Sunstreaker was gone. He had been avoiding their quarters all day long. He was terrified, absolutely, of seeing his brother once more. He didn't think he'd be able to contain his emotions.

Sideswipe only found out that Sunstreaker was gone near the end of the day. He'd been avoiding the Command Deck and Sunstreaker's post at the comms station, but Ironhide had called them all together to reevaluate their exercise with the Army and Air Force. Sideswipe trudged up to the Command Deck as slowly as he could, and each step only blossomed a deeper and greater feeling of pain and horror.

Instead, Hot Spot was in Sunstreaker's seat, and after Sideswipe demanded to know why Sunstreaker wasn't on duty, Red Alert told him that Sunstreaker and Jazz had set off for a long-term PR car show event with the humans. Red Alert was staring at Sideswipe in an odd way, and even Bluestreak quirked his optic ridges at Sideswipe's odd outburst. Only Smokescreen, standing across from him in their small circle around the Teletraan terminal, offered him some quiet reassurance.

Sideswipe remained numb throughout the meeting. Sunstreaker was gone. He had left. Had it all really meant so little to him that he was cavorting around on a car show the day after their sparkling… was terminated? The thought was still too new and too painful to think without recoiling from the harsh lash of remorse that coursed through him. Sunstreaker was parading around the country as if nothing had happened. As if their world hadn't collapsed around them.

Sunstreaker was gone. He had left, and Sideswipe was left alone in his spark and with only his memories to both torture and soothe his pain. Sideswipe's optics glanced around his empty, stale quarters as he gathered up the few personal belongings he was bringing to Smokescreen's. His few datapads, his paints for his armor, cleaning rags, polishes, and waxes. There really wasn't very much he actually physically owned that meant anything to him. He had never been attached to things.

Sideswipe's gaze fell on Sunstreaker's discarded pulse rifle leaning against the widescreen television. They used to have so much fun together, both in training and in battles. They were tied together, pulsing with life and with vibrancy, and each day together had meant something. Sideswipe sighed, swallowing past the painful lump in his throat as he moved toward their TV and game console. Slowly, he pulled his controller out of the console and gathered it into his arms. One day, he'd play again with Smokescreen.

His optics roamed over the dark and dreary quarters they used to share. All the fun, all the jokes, all the laughs, all the teasing. All the happiness. All the tenderness.

This wasn't the way he ever thought it would end.


	7. Chapter 7

**Unintended Seven**

* * *

"We need to talk."

Ratchet twisted, staring blankly over his shoulder as Wheeljack stood, uncharacteristically nervously, in his office doorway.

"We need to talk," Wheeljack said again, his audial fins flashing. His hands wrung together nervously. Ratchet had gone from distracted to distant to completely absent, and there were nights now that Ratchet didn't even recharge with him, preferring instead to return to his office and work after his evening energon. Wheeljack had no idea what was consuming his lover so entirely. Ratchet wouldn't talk to him, and Wheeljack hadn't had the opportunity to ask.

Ratchet nodded and beckoned Wheeljack into his office. He was exhausted. He hadn't been recharging well over the past week, and his thoughts were once again consumed with Sunstreaker and his sparkling. Ratchet kept checking on Sunstreaker's medalert monitor throughout the day, but whatever the golden twin was doing, he hadn't done anything to aggravate his sparkling.

Ratchet was mired in his ongoing research. Teletraan 1 had databanks full of medical information on sparklings, the physiological growth, the energy requirements and nutrition for both carrier and sparkling, and pediatric technical and spec information. It was dry, technical, and nearly unusable. None of that was able to tell him just how to actually raise a sparkling. Not a single one of the mechs onboard had ever been a parent, and there wasn't a single one of them qualified to give advice to Sunstreaker if he so chose to keep his creation. For most of them, their own sparkling years were so far in the past that the memories were distant experiences etched on their sparks, and not readily accessible to be studied as learning experiences.

Ratchet was always able to fix his mechs. He was able to repair them, able to counsel them, able to treat their injuries, both physical and not, but this time, he couldn't give Sunstreaker the correct information. He just didn't know, no one knew, how to do this right.

Wheeljack slowly lowered himself into the chair in front of Ratchet's desk. Ratchet had offlined his Teletraan terminal as he moved into his office and Wheeljack had a momentary flash of irritation at that. It was just another in a long string of sudden secrets that had sprung up between them, or rather, that Ratchet had started keeping from Wheeljack.

"What's going on, Ratchet?" Wheeljack blurted out without preamble. He was never one to beat around the bush. "What are you keeping from me?"

Ratchet's optic ridges furrowed, frowning at Wheeljack's first statement, then rose, arching high. Ratchet stared at Wheeljack, both seeing and not seeing the worried and slightly pinched look on his face that spoke to exhaustion and anxiety. Sunstreaker's frustrated rage flashed before his optics once more, briefly obscuring Wheeljack's concerned gaze. He hadn't shared Sunstreaker's secret with anyone.

"Ratchet…" Wheeljack whispered, and his audial fins flashed softly. "Talk to me…"

Ratchet pitched forward, stretching out his arms across his desk as he lay his exhausted helm chevron-down on his desktop surface. His hands reached out for Wheeljack, grasping at his familiar, comfortable presence. Wheeljack's hands rose, instantly moving to intertwine their fingers. Ratchet sighed, exhaling into the desk. "I don't know what to do, 'Jack," Ratchet finally said, though the words seemed physically forced from his vocalizer.

Wheeljack squeezed down. "What is it?" he choked out. "What's wrong?"

Ratchet's helm rose slowly, and he peered across the desk with his chin only an inch above the surface. He didn't say anything for a long moment as he stared at Wheeljack. Finally, he spoke. "Sunstreaker's sparked," he whispered, almost too low to hear.

Wheeljack's optic ridges flew upward, nearly rocketing off his faceplates as his audial fins surged white-bright. The words echoed through his processor, first in disbelief, then in shock. "Wha… what?" was all he managed.

Ratchet sighed again and lowered his helm back to his desktop surface. His grey chevron rested flat on the smooth metal desk as Ratchet's fingers gripped Wheeljack's once more.

"Whose is it?" Wheeljack asked in a disbelieving whisper.

"He won't say," Ratchet said, speaking into his desk as he shook his helm. He squeezed Wheeljack's fingers before drawing himself back up into a seated position. Wheeljack stared at Ratchet, still shocked and speechless and entirely too wide-optic'd.

"I… didn't know he had a lover…" Wheeljack said, stumbling over the words.

Ratchet chuckled humorously. "Neither did I, 'Jack. It was a big surprise when I ran the scan." Ratchet shook his helm.

"So this is what's been eating at your lines…" Wheeljack said, still in shock. "I was worried it was something else… Something to do with us. I've been invisible to you for almost a month."

Ratchet sighed again as he collapsed into his own chair. "I'm sorry, 'Jack," Ratchet whispered, stretching out his hand across the desk. "I never meant to shut you out. I am… very worried about Sunstreaker."

"Why?"

Ratchet hesitated. "He's all alone. He's receiving no support from whoever has sparked him, and whoever that is, Sunstreaker is utterly in love with him. His rejection was… is devastating to him." Ratchet paused, then continued after gazing into Wheeljack's shocked gaze. "There's one sight I never thought I'd see in my life, and that's Sunstreaker falling to pieces. He has no idea what to do."

Wheeljack's optic ridges flew up. "Are we talking about Sunstreaker?"

Ratchet nodded. "I almost didn't believe it myself. I went to talk to him about his sparkling and his options just after he found out. He wouldn't even think about keeping it." Ratchet shook his helm, remembering their late night talk in Sunstreaker's quarters. "The afternoon we were supposed to terminate it, he just… came apart. He fell apart at the seams." Ratchet's voice grew soft, remembering Sunstreaker's sparkwrenching cry for love as he sobbed in his arms.

Wheeljack continued to stare at Ratchet as his audial fins softly illuminated, then dimmed. Ratchet nodded, keenly familiar with his lover's every action. "I'm… unspeakably worried about him."

"Where is he?" Wheeljack asked. "He's been gone for a week now, right?"

"He's with Jazz." Ratchet's voice was clipped. "He's at a car show. Jazz invited him to the only PR event that either one of them would enjoy."

Wheeljack chuckled. "Of course he'd go."

"Yes, and it's probably a good thing for him to get away and think… but I can't help worrying about him. And his sparkling."

"I know it's in your nature to care and to worry… but I need you to let me in, too. I care and worry about you, Ratch'. Don't shut me out." Wheeljack swallowed. "Let me help you with this."

There were times, most often when Wheeljack was in pieces in between his medbay and his lab, smoking or on fire again, that Ratchet would wonder what had ever possessed him to fall helm over heels for the most-likely processor-fried inventor and engineer. There were times that he would stare inexplicably at Wheeljack holding his newest invention and want to snatch it away and send him back to his quarters for the week. And then there were times, like this, when Ratchet knew without a doubt why he loved Wheeljack.

"I'm sorry, 'Jack." Ratchet nodded, then spoke again. "I do need your help with this. I have no idea what to do."

Wheeljack's audial fins flashed happily as his helm tilted. "How can I help?"

"With everything." Ratchet flicked his Teletraan terminal back online with his free hand, then twisted the screen so Wheeljack could view it. "Sparkling growth and development in-carrier, sparkling delivery – Primus, 'Jack, how do we even bring the sparkling through emergence? Care for the carrier and sparkling during and after emergence and expulsion, how to properly feed and nurture both sparkling and carrier, how to care for the sparkling through their primary modes before their secondary systems fully online, how to nurture the sparkling's processor development, how to-"

Ratchet was cut off by Wheeljack's hand waving through the air, begging surrender. "Alright, I get it. You're overwhelmed."

Ratchet nodded. Wheeljack exhaled, staring over the terminal screen and the data Ratchet had collected thus far. "We'll figure this out, Ratch'." He quirked his helm and flashed his audial fins. "Together. We'll help Sunny together."

Ratchet smiled, then tugged on Wheeljack's hand and drew his lover across his desk. Wheeljack met Ratchet half way, and Ratchet dropped a small, chaste kiss to the blast mask covering the lower half of Wheeljack's face. "Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

* * *

Sideswipe tried to tune out the noise of the Rec Room as he shifted on the couch. Bluestreak was on his second hour of his marathon video game face-off against Cliffjumper, Brawn, and Gears. Most of the off duty mechs were crowded around, equally cheering on and jeering at Bluestreak and the minibots. Mirage and Hound were standing directly behind Bluestreak, cheering the loudest, and Smokescreen was wedged in between Sideswipe and Bluestreak on the couch. Smokescreen was cheering on Bluestreak in his own customary way, teasing his friend on each misstep and mistake while providing a running commentary on their battle.

Sideswipe was exhausted. He wasn't recharging through the night, sometimes not even for more than an hour at a time. Thoughts, dreams, memories and nightmares all flooded his every moment. He couldn't escape, especially not in recharge. Sunstreaker was there, and now, so was their sparkling. Their never-to-be-seen, never-existed sparkling.

Smokescreen leaned back against Sideswipe. "Having fun?" Smokescreen asked, leaning his helm back until he was looking up into Sideswipe's face. Sideswipe nodded, then dropped a brief kiss to Smokescreen's chevron. Smokescreen smirked and pushed himself back up to cheer Bluestreak on.

Smokescreen wasn't an idiot. He couldn't do much to heal the ache in Sideswipe's spark, though. Sideswipe was hurting over more than he could fix. All he could do was keep loving him. Smokescreen flashed a grin back to Sideswipe before he turned his full attention back to the video game.

Sideswipe stared at the back of Smokescreen's helm. His thoughts were still turbulent, still mired in difficulty and corrupted by the pain in his spark. After so long of navigating the confusing eddies surrounding his brother and their forbidden relationship, being with Smokescreen was almost too easy. However, Smokescreen, while being wonderful, caring, funny, and exactly the same friend that he'd always been to Sideswipe, couldn't fulfill that one deepest need that Sideswipe had: Smokescreen _wasn't _Sunstreaker. He never would be. And Sideswipe - broken, faulty, terrible Sideswipe - wanted his brother.

Sideswipe tried to force himself to face this new life of his. He had to force himself to get past his broken code. His spark would not yield though, would not stop yearning for what it could not have. Sideswipe reached out and gently laid his hand on Smokescreen's backplates, just between his doorwings. They twitched, fluttering briefly at the sensation before Smokescreen leaned into Sideswipe's touch.

Sideswipe tried to smile. One day, it would be better.

* * *

Sunstreaker was famished. The eighth day of his and Jazz's trek around the country as the honored guests of the autoshow circuit was wearing long and thin, and all he wanted was the energon cube he could nearly taste. His morning cube was hours ago, and his evening cube was still hours away. Still, his thoughts were consumed with the heavy ores, the additives, and the warm, slippery energon that would soon be his again. Sunstreaker watched his internal energy monitors tick downward, slowly giving proof to his growing need for more energy.

Sunstreaker didn't need this much energy to get through the day before. His two daily cubes were part of his maintenance, and skipping one wasn't a horrible tragedy. He never dropped below 30% energy levels, even during the height of the war. Now, with his sparkling growing larger and stronger inside of him, and forging deeper connections throughout his internals to sustain its own growth and energy needs, his energy reserves were plummeting. One cube only got him to the next, and there was a steadily decreasing bumper of extra energy that was stored. The ores, once so odd-tasting, were as delicious as they were necessary. He had never before thought of energon so much.

He thought back to Ratchet's first discussion with him, after he had learned he was sparked. Ratchet said that he would need extra rations if he kept his sparkling. Sunstreaker had no idea he'd need them this quickly.

Unfortunately, he only brought a finite number of additives, and Jazz had only brought a select number of energon cubes for the duration of their trip. If Sunstreaker were to demand an extra ration, he'd be quite literally taking it from Jazz's mouth. He would also have to justify why he suddenly needed the extra cube to get through the day comfortably. That thought paralyzed Sunstreaker to inaction. He needed to keep his condition private and concealed as much as possible.

He never asked for more energy.

Finally, Jazz pulled the cubes out for their evening ration. Both mechs were lounging in a grassy field next to the highway after their afternoon drive. The drivers of the transport trucks were on their dinner breaks, and Jazz and Sunstreaker were likewise resting. Jazz flopped out with his legs spread akimbo. He was the picture of ease and lassitude, while Sunstreaker, seated next to him, was tense, curled up into a tight perch as he sat, nearly vibrating with hunger.

"You alright, Sunshine?" Jazz asked cautiously, raking his optics over Sunstreaker's tightly coiled body as he passed his evening ration across.

Sunstreaker nodded as he grabbed the cube, then stood and moved away briskly. Jazz stared at Sunstreaker as the yellow twin did _something_, something Jazz couldn't see. He cocked his helm, trying to perhaps get a glimpse when Sunstreaker threw the cube back and began to guzzle his energon.

Jazz's mouth dropped open in shock. They had refueled only that morning, and the drive had been slow and lazy with the other humans around. There should be no reason that Sunstreaker was underenergized. And yet, he was swallowing the energon as if he hadn't tasted it in days.

Sunstreaker finished his cube too soon. The energon was perfect, his ores were freshly mixed, and for a moment, his tanks felt full as his body hummed contentedly once more. Sunstreaker discretely tucked the empty ores tube into his subspace and turned back to rejoin Jazz. He grunted at the sudden movement he felt deep within, still surprised when it happened,

His sparkling had started moving within his reproduction tank mid-drive several days prior. They were showing off for the humans, playing with speed and smartly executed road tricks that would have sent Prowl into gear lock when Sunstreaker felt an almost disorienting sense of swirling movement deep within his body. He was terrified when it happened at first, thinking that something horrible had happened. He slowed immediately, letting Jazz finish the rest of the exhibition as he sat and tried to calm his terrified systems. The movement, the odd swirl and rush of fluids and _something_ within him continued, then finally ebbed. His spark burned, pressing against an indefinable presence that was a part of him and yet not him. He was panting, shaking in fear and trembling from the horrified possibility that he had done something wrong, that he had harmed his sparkling. He didn't know how to process this, at all, and his emotions swirled in a mass of confusion, terror, and painful hope.

Jazz watched Sunstreaker cross back to his side and sit once more. He was stiff, sitting straight up, and his hand rubbed at his sideseams idly. Jazz continued to sip his cube in silence, watching Sunstreaker out of the corner of his visor. He hadn't a clue what was going on with their yellow twin, but he was starting to become worried.

"How much longer until we reach Baltimore?" Sunstreaker asked, barely turning his helm.

"About 5 hours," Jazz replied. He studied Sunstreaker carefully, searching for anything that might help him figure Sunstreaker out. "Is that alright? You having some drive problems or energy conversion issues?"

Sunstreaker's helm whipped around, and he glared at Jazz. "No," he finally said. "I'm fine." He almost hid the slight wince as he turned away, but Jazz spotted his hand slowly move over his abdominal plating and back to this sideseams.

Jazz frowned, then watched as Sunstreaker lay back, stretching himself out on the warm evening grass. Sunstreaker's optics dimmed, and Jazz detected the powering down signals of recharge initiation. Just before Sunstreaker fell offline, his hand rose and lay out over his abdomen, stretching across his plating. Jazz watched it all wordlessly before turning away. He'd have to keep an optic on Sunstreaker, but at the moment, the yellow twin wasn't revealing a thing.

* * *

Tampa Bay, and Sunstreaker was in agony.

He had finally capitulated and demanded to return to the _Ark_. Jazz was thrilled with the tropics, and he had loved the palm trees, perfect beaches, and adoring crowds. Jazz had shown off as much as he could; a mech splashing in the ocean was not a sight the humans often, or ever, saw. Sunstreaker had hung back, growing more tired and under-energized with each day. He finally admitted to himself that he needed to get back and see Ratchet, and then began the internal struggle over what to tell Jazz.

Ultimately, he just demanded to return to the _Ark_, saying that he was done with the trip and the humans.

Jazz saw through it right away. "You need to get back to see Ratchet, don't you?"

Sunstreaker didn't bother trying to lie. Jazz had seen him every hour of every day. He knew something was up. Sunstreaker nodded.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" Jazz asked. "I've noticed you've been under-powered. Are you having a problem with the energon? Or your conversion system?"

Sunstreaker shook his helm, not meeting Jazz's gaze. "I'll be alright," he croaked. "I just need to get back."

Jazz didn't push any further. He arranged for immediate transport back to Oregon, which was, unfortunately, on a cargo plane. Sunstreaker hadn't thought anything of air travel before, but now, stuck at 30,000 feet above the Earth, he was hating it with every fiber optic of his being.

Sunstreaker moaned again, curled up into a tiny ball in the cargo hold. Jazz was watching him, trying to help him in some way, but was entirely unable to do anything. The pressures, the altitude, and the speed had all combined to throw Sunstreaker's systems into disarray. His sparkling was violently protesting the air travel, and the movement within his body counteracted with the movement surrounding him. His lines burned, surging both with the pain his sparkling was feeling and with being over-pressurized from the flight. His processor was screaming, as if his helm were about to burst from the altitude. His tanks were churning, and Sunstreaker thought that if he just purged, everything would be better. The clashing of fluids and movements within his body would slow at least a little.

Sunstreaker tried to rub his abdominal plating, trying to somehow reach his sparkling deep within. His arms wrapped around his waist, encircling his abdomen and gripping onto his sideseams. He moaned, then whispered aloud, "It's going to be alright… it's going to be alright… We're going home…" Sunstreaker tried to calm both himself and his sparkling. "It's going to be alright…"

The flight was long and tedious, and Sunstreaker finally fell into recharge halfway through. Jazz shifted his body over until Sunstreaker was resting in his lap. The yellow twin onlined just as they were descending, his head pillowed on Jazz's thigh. He didn't move away, and instead curled around Jazz's body for the final half hour of the painful flight. Jazz noticed he was whispering again, but he tuned out the words out of privacy to Sunstreaker's mysterious condition..

Jazz offered him a cube as soon as they were on the ground, and Sunstreaker drank it in one minute, guzzling the liquid down into his tanks. For a moment, Sunstreaker didn't know if he was going to lose it all, but the energon stayed down, and slowly, his systems quieted.

"Ready to drive back?" Jazz asked quietly an hour later. He had taken them both to a side hanger to rest, and Sunstreaker had spent most of that time trying to calm his raging systems.

Sunstreaker nodded, glancing at Jazz briefly as he stood to transform. He looked tired and haggard, though that masked his complete and total fear at the thought of returning. Jazz was deeply concerned about their yellow warrior, though he followed Sunstreaker's lead and transformed as well.

"As soon as you feel out of whack, Sunny, you let me know, and we'll pull over for however long it takes. I don't want you to collapse on me out here. You let me know what I can do for you." Jazz set a slow, lazy pace for their drive back.

Sunstreaker didn't respond for a long moment. Finally, he spoke. "Just get us back, Jazz. I'll be fine."

Jazz still forced them to stop every couple of hours, and each time, he offered a new cube to Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker took each of them and drank half, and slowly, his energy readings began to climb up until he wasn't looking so horrifically under-powered and scrap-metalesque any longer.

They arrived at the _Ark_ just after noon. The evening patrol sweep was out near the perimeter, and Jazz and Sunstreaker drove in with Tracks and Inferno, who wanted to hear all about their cross country trip. Jazz chattered away, filling the time and distracting both mechs from Sunstreaker's pain and silence.

Jazz queried the Ark as they all drove up, pinging for Ratchet's location. Teletraan pinged back, showing Ratchet in the Rec Room. "Let's head to the Rec Room, Sunny," Jazz said simply.

Sunstreaker's every step was heavy with anxiety. His fears and gnawing worries had grown exponentially as he drove back. Outside, away from the _Ark_ and away from Ratchet, Sideswipe and everything else, Sunstreaker could ignore the inevitable and inescapable future that awaited him. Returning home, returning to the _Ark_, meant that now he had to face his decisions. More importantly, he had to face Sideswipe.

He didn't know if he was ready.

He had no idea how he was going to do it or what he was going to say. He didn't know how to tell his brother that he was keeping their illicit and illegal sparkling. He couldn't even fathom how his brother would react. Most likely, he thought darkly, with anger and frustration. This had the potential to blow their life-long secret wide open.

Sunstreaker had decided at some indefinable, undetermined time that he was going to keep his sparkling. There hadn't been a single moment of definitive decision-making, but rather a general feeling of terrified acceptance. Sunstreaker began _feeling_ his sparkling, not just in his body but in his spark, and he recognized the subtle and yet overwhelming presence of another individual within him. Feelings, urges, and sensations not his own briefly played out through his spark and processor through the day, and he began to relate with and talk to his growing sparkling. He spoke of his day, of what they were doing together, and of the ridiculous humans gawking at them. His emotions grew, surging both protective, nurturing and fearful over the new life growing within him.

Sunstreaker just flat didn't know what to do, about anything. He didn't know how he felt about his brother. He didn't want to be alone, and he didn't want to raise their sparkling alone. His thoughts had swirled around his brother for the entirety of their trip, and though his pain was still deeply rooted within his spark, his longing and a tiny, new tendril of hope was trying to grow.

Maybe, just maybe, they could figure this out. Maybe they could have this sparkling. Maybe they could fix the horrible mess their lives had turned into. Maybe they could finally talk.

Talking was never Sunstreaker's strong suit. He couldn't communicate his thoughts or feelings very well. He never had Sideswipe's gift for easy and effortless communication. He had always tried to show his feelings through his choices and his actions, but he had always been burned, time and again. He had learned this protective sheltering was his best defense against further pain.

Except it wasn't. Sunstreaker was still hurting, he was still in pain, and he was still lonely. Something had to change between them. He was keeping his sparkling, their sparkling, and with that choice, everything would be different.

Maybes and dares of hope flitted through Sunstreaker's processor, each teasing him with a potentiality for the two - soon to be three - of them together. A tiny, fragile, Sideswipe-shaped wish suspended itself delicately within the pulses of Sunstreaker's spark.

Before any of that could possibly happen though, they would first have to talk.

Tracks and Inferno split off and headed to the command deck as Jazz and Sunstreaker continued on to the Rec Room. Jazz's hand rested briefly on Sunstreaker's back, helping guide him down the corridors as they walked together.

"Thanks," Sunstreaker murmured, barely audible.

Jazz smiled faintly. "No problem, man."

The Rec Room doors loomed large. Sunstreaker inhaled, preparing himself to face the _Ark's_ inhabitants again. Jazz smiled at Sunstreaker and squeezed his shoulder before palming the Rec Room door open. Jazz's hand fell as he walked in, and Sunstreaker followed close behind. The noise was overloud, even for the Rec Room, and he peered around Jazz's body to see what the ruckus was all about.

Sideswipe was spinning Smokescreen in circles, twirling him around in a small dance as Blaster's speakers blared a loud and raucous rhythm. Smokescreen's doorwings flitted up and down, twitching and flickering as he spun beneath Sideswipe's raised arm. Finally, he stumbled, dizzy and out of breath and laughing hard. Smokescreen collapsed into Sideswipe's arms, leaning against his chest with his helm tilted up. The gathered mechs cheered the impromptu dance, spurred on by friendly teasing from Bluestreak and an overly loud radio of Blaster's. Smokescreen's doorwings flickered as he stretched up on his toes and pressed a gentle kiss to Sideswipe's lips. Sideswipe's hands rested on Smokescreen's shoulders, encasing him in a warm embrace.

"Whoa! What did I miss?" Jazz laughed at the scene, clapping.

The entire scene played itself out before Sunstreaker's optics, indelibly searing itself deep within his spark. His hopes, his fragile wishes, the Sideswipe-shaped dream he cherished vanished, crushed instantaneously with all-consuming pain.

Sunstreaker gasped against the surge of horrified pain blossoming out of his spark, once again due to Sideswipe. His sparkling jerked, shifting within him in response to the piercing agony that swelled within. His world was destroyed, ravaged and ripped apart entirely, and the proof was displayed before him.

Sunstreaker was sparked, thanks to Sideswipe, and Sideswipe was happy with another mech.

Sideswipe glanced up at the sudden interruption as his kiss with Smokescreen ended. He hadn't heard Jazz or Sunstreaker enter the Rec Room, as Blaster's music and the mechs' cheering of their sudden dance had been too loud. His optics immediately caught on the brilliant yellow plating, the achingly, agonizingly familiar yellow plating of his brother. Sideswipe stared into Sunstreaker's destroyed, raging optics as time froze all around them. His world shattered, irrevocably destroyed with the silent, screaming agony spilling from Sunstreaker's optics. Their world collapsed around and between them as all of their shared pain was suddenly, brutally exposed.

Sideswipe tried to breathe, tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Sunstreaker could no longer look at the worst mistake he ever made.

Sunstreaker turned and fled.


	8. Chapter 8

**Unintended Eight**

* * *

Sunstreaker turned and fled from the Rec Room.

He tore down the corridor, pushing himself physically through the pain and agony spreading in firelines out from his spark. His body, his spark, his entire being was consumed with raw agony, and it was all he could do to keep gasping through the horror.

It was over. Sideswipe was gone. He had left him.

Sunstreaker knew that this would happen. Somewhere, deep inside the dark, lonely spaces of his spark, he had always known that this would happen. He was abandoned, always. It didn't matter what Sunstreaker wanted, it didn't matter what he wished for, so desperately and painfully that it hurt. He was, once again, alone.

Sunstreaker's shaking hands fumbled at his keypad, trying to open his locked quarters. His sparkling was lurching, rocking with the surging emotions tearing through Sunstreaker. His hand was still on his abdomen, covering the area of his reproductive tank as if he could reach his sparkling inside. He wanted to collapse around his sparkling, their sparkling. It was the last connection to Sideswipe he had, aside from his horrible, awful memories and that image, that searing image, of Sideswipe twirling and kissing a smiling and happy and oh-so-in-love Smokescreen.

Sunstreaker couldn't believe this was truly happening.

Their door slid open, and Sunstreaker nearly fell forward into the dark, stale interior. He clambered inside, shaking and gasping in ragged pulls of air. He stumbled to the couch, then leaned against the back, trying to stop himself from collapsing to the ground. It would be too easy to just let go right now and collapse. Let it all wash over him. Succumb to the pain. Sunstreaker's sparkling jerked once more, and he hissed against the reverberations of their shared agony lancing across his spark.

Sunstreaker's hand pressed harder into his abdomen. "Sideswipe…" he whispered. _Primus, why_?

The door to their quarters slid open again. Sideswipe raced inside, breathless. He stopped dead, staring wide-optic'd at his brother. "Sunny…" he whispered.

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed as his agony morphed instantly to rage. All the misery, all the yearning, all the twisted, terrible desire he had kept locked deep inside himself for years and vorns shifted, rooting firmly as the seeds of his suddenly-unquenchable rage. His vision colored, focusing solely on his brother and playing out in all the dark, painful histories and memories of their relationship. His fingers clenched, his breath hitched, ragged and uneven.

He stared at Sideswipe. Sideswipe was still standing in front of the door, wide-optic'd and nervous. Sideswipe's hands clenched and unclenched as his fear froze him. Sunstreaker's lips curled back in an ugly sneer. "Don't you _dare_ come near me…"

Sideswipe's face fell. He mouth dropped open. "Sunny…" he whispered again. "I was trying to…"

"Don't!" Sunstreaker roared. "Don't you ever come near me again!" He pushed himself back from the couch, tensing in anger. "I _despise_ you…"

Sideswipe tried to breath, but his spark was suddenly crushing his chest, consuming everything with his agony. He shook his helm, unable to speak as he stared helplessly at his furious, raging brother.

"You are the _worst_ thing that ever happened to me, Sideswipe." Sunstreaker's voice was cold and deep, hissing sharply through his clenched denta as his hands curled into fists. "You're a _liar._ You've never, ever cared about _me,_ not once."

"That's not true!" Sideswipe choked out. Trembles were starting to settle over his body. Everything was entirely out of control, rocketing too fast, too sudden. Sideswipe had no idea what to do or say. "_Everything_ was for you!"

"Shut up!" Sunstreaker roared once more. "You _never_ cared! All you've ever thought about is _yourself_!" Sunstreaker spat the last angry word out violently at his brother. "It's always about _you_…"

Sideswipe shook his helm, terrified and horrified at his brother's anger and misconception. "No, no, no, no… I only ever thought about you!" He tried to step forward, tried to reach out to his brother.

"No!" Sunstreaker stepped back, moving further from his brother. "I won't listen to your lies anymore!" His sparkling jerked, harder this time, and the swirling sensation briefly unbalanced his entire processor. He gasped, nearly collapsing.

Sideswipe tried to move forward to help his brother. He didn't know what was happening. "Sunstreaker, are you alright? What's happening?"

Sunstreaker growled, circling around the couch to remain distant from his brother. His hand pushed down into his abdomen again, trying to physically reach his sparkling. He wasn't sure who needed the comfort more, himself or his sparkling. They needed each other now. "I'm keeping our sparkling, Sideswipe," he hissed. "I didn't get rid of it."

Sideswipe's entire world roared to a sudden stop. He couldn't hear, couldn't see, and for a moment, nothing else registered at all in his processor aside from the simple and Earth-shaking reality of Sunstreaker's words. His vision sharpened, his audials cycled before bottoming out, and his entire processor seemed to shift entirely around, resettling in an alien and unfamiliar pattern. Their sparkling was _alive_. He was still _**there**_, inside Sunstreaker. "What?" he choked out, not believing his own audials.

"I'm keeping our sparkling," Sunstreaker repeated, louder. He straightened, his hand still on his abdomen.

Sideswipe's trembles grew. He was shaking, vibrating with too much emotion and overwhelmed with shock. His legs wobbled, shaking beneath him.

He was losing his very slim hold on reality.

"I'm done with you," Sunstreaker continued. "Stay away from me. Stay away from us. I _never_ want to see you again."

Sideswipe fell to his knees. "Sunstreaker…" he choked out. "Our sparkling…" he mouthed the words as his vocalizer failed. This couldn't be happening.

"Stay away from us!" Sunstreaker bellowed. He moved around the couch, sliding to the door of their quarters. "I don't _need _you… I don't _want_ you…" Sunstreaker needed to get away, now.

Sideswipe shook his helm, staring at Sunstreaker from his crumpled collapse on their floor. Sideswipe's entire world was twisting around, destroying itself in a crush of agony. Sunstreaker was moving toward the door, and if he walked out, Sideswipe was terrified that that would be the end. Sideswipe had no idea what to do or what to say, and his processor was frozen on the thought of their sparkling still alive within his brother and the sight of his brother's hand pressing down hard over his reproductive tank. "Sunstreaker…" he gasped, sobbing.

Sunstreaker shook his helm and darted out the door, leaving Sideswipe behind. Their doors hissed shut behind him as he began to run, tearing down the corridors in a blind rage. His optics blurred as he ran, unfocusing with too much emotional input, and his throat constricted, choking.

He had finally done it. He had finally broken free of their twisted relationship. It had only cost him his entire world, and the feeling of agony that came with ripping out the depth of his spark.

He ran, pushing himself as hard as he could and not seeing anything that he passed. Within minutes he was at the _Ark _entrance, and he transformed, racing away into the afternoon and leaving behind the nightmare as best he could.

The agony raced with him, and his turbulent emotions kept fueling his sparkling's own protestations and fits of anxiety and rage. His systems were super-electrified from his surging emotions and spark, and the overpowered energon coursed through his lines, pushing all thoughts and physical feelings of his previous exhaustion and underpowered state far from his processor. He pushed forward, trying to outrun himself and his horrible, terrible past.

He didn't care how far or how long he drove. He just had to go.

* * *

"He's out of their headquarters," Thundercracker grunted, listening to the squawk feed from Laserbeak. Soundwave's spy cassette had been hovering around the Autobot's territory, waiting to catch Sunstreaker unawares. They needed to catch him on his own, silently. They needed time to whisk him away, and time before the Autobots came after them. Time to extract his sparkling's spark and re-power their dominion once more.

"I wonder who the sparker is," Skywarp sneered, readying himself for flight. "I hope it's his brother."

Thundercracker frowned. "You're sick, 'Warp."

"You know those fraggers are twisted. Serves them right. I bet it is."

"Shut up!" Starscream hissed. "Get ready to move!"

* * *

Jazz stretched as he made his way onto the Command Deck. Ironhide turned as the doors opened, and he gave a slight wave and a warm smile as he straightened up. "Ya'll are back early, Jazz. I wasn't expecting ya for a few more days."

Jazz smiled as he strode towards Ironhide and the main Teletraan terminal. Red Alert gave him a friendly nod as he passed, and Cliffjumper grunted from his place at the comms station. Teletraan was humming quietly, and all was peacefully normal onboard the _Ark_. "Well, we decided to come on home early. It was fun, don't get me wrong. But, after a while…" Jazz smiled at Ironhide. "It's good to be home."

Ironhide smirked as he stood next to Jazz. "Ole' Sunny acting like a super-ego 'bot again? He start overloadin' over all the ooh's and ahhh's?"

Jazz chuckled at Ironhide's teasing. In truth, he had expected just that. Instead, Sunstreaker had been quiet, withdrawn, and much more into spending time all by himself and far away from the humans than in ostentatious displays of showiness. He had even totally disengaged from the speed displays or the tricks and agility exercises that had always been an absolute magnet for the humans. In the past, Sunstreaker had taken an almost unholy glee in making the humans shriek and scream in awe, but this time… Sunstreaker was almost in his own world.

"Nah, 'Hide, Sunny was fine." Jazz shook his helm as his smile faded. Their real reason for returning early was Sunstreaker's private business, and he wasn't about to start any rumors. Sunstreaker had disappeared from the Rec Room shortly after they had entered, and Jazz had no idea where he had gone. Sideswipe left shortly thereafter, his faceplates steeled in determination, and Jazz wondered if Sideswipe knew something about Sunstreaker. He hoped Sideswipe was going to help his brother. Jazz had made his way over to Ratchet and privately whispered a few words to him about Sunstreaker's behavior and condition. Ratchet hadn't shown any reaction, instead glancing to the data pad in front of him on the table, then quietly thanked Jazz and made his way out of the Rec Room.

Despite Jazz's initial rush of excitement to get away from the _Ark_, seeing Sunstreaker in pain and in trouble had instantly propelled Jazz back to his fundamental role of 3IC. He was in charge of and responsible for and to his mechs, and taking care of them, both on and off the battlefield, had been too long ingrained within his spark. The autoshows, the humans, and the entire vacation had steadily taken a back seat to Sunstreaker's condition and helping their golden warrior. Jazz was nearing calling the whole thing off when Sunstreaker finally demanded to go home. _This_ truly was where Jazz belonged.

"Well, it's good to see ya again," Ironhide said, slapping Jazz on the shoulder. "The _Ark_ was quiet without ya."

Jazz smiled at Ironhide as they stood comfortably on the Command Deck, chatting back and forth over the small incidents and happenings on the _Ark_ in Jazz's absence.

* * *

Sideswipe keened, sobbing on the floor of his quarters uncontrollably. What had he done? Everything had blown up in his face, and more than not knowing why or how, he had no idea how to move forward. He couldn't imagine being able to fix this, not with the force of Sunstreaker's rage and hatred.

That ferocity of emotions had lanced Sideswipe's spark, rooting him to the spot as Sunstreaker had exploded. He had thought Sunstreaker hadn't cared for him. He had thought Sunstreaker was furious at him and blamed him for their sparkling. He had thought Sunstreaker blamed him for _everything_. He was only trying to get out of Sunstreaker's way and help him try to get back to normal. It was all he ever tried to do. He was only trying to relieve Sunstreaker of the incredible burden of Sideswipe's horrible, illegal love. How had he gone so horribly wrong that Sunstreaker had turned to hate him? Everything he had done was to try to help Sunstreaker.

And their sparkling… Oh, Primus...

Sideswipe bellowed into the deck, electric static forcing itself through his vocalizer as his entire body fritzed from the supercharging of his systems and his overpowered and surging spark. He could smell his body overheating, the ozone burning, and the energon in his lines pounding too strongly. He didn't care, not at all. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony still blitzing through his body. Their sparkling was _alive_. Sunstreaker was going to have their sparkling. And he was forcing Sideswipe away.

The doors slid open, leaking the corridor's lights into the darkened and untouched interior. Feet paused, then flew forward, moving to Sideswipe's collapsed, keening body. "Siders!" Smokescreen's voice wavered, and the red and blue body dropped to Sideswipe's side instantly, fear and concern shooting through his body. "Primus, Sideswipe…" His arms reached out, trying to wrap themselves around his body. "What happened?" His voice dropped to a whisper, wavering at the edges.

Sideswipe's head shifted, his optics fuzzily focusing on Smokescreen's body kneeling next to his. "No, no, no, no," he whispered, trying to push back Smokescreen's arms. He didn't want Smokescreen's care and affection, not now.

"Sideswipe, please…" Smokescreen pleaded, reaching out again. He had no idea what had happened, but Sideswipe had torn out of the Rec Room and from his arms at the sight of Sunstreaker, racing after his brother frantically. Smokescreen hadn't known what to do, but after stewing in nervousness, he left shortly after Jazz, making his way toward the twins' quarters. Sunstreaker had torn out of the room and raced toward the _Ark_ entrance, looking for all the world as if his world had just been destroyed. Now, Sideswipe was flat on the floor, bellowing his spark out, Sunstreaker was gone, and Smokescreen had no idea what to do. "Sideswipe, let me help…"

Sideswipe shook his helm, gasping and trying to push Smokescreen further away. He didn't want this. He couldn't pretend, not right now, that Smokescreen was what he wanted.

"Sideswipe, let me help. I love you," Smokescreen whispered, still trying to reach for Sideswipe.

Sideswipe froze at Smokescreen's words. They hadn't said anything of love, not yet, and Sideswipe knew he couldn't love Smokescreen. Nothing was stopping Smokescreen from loving him though, and actually hearing the words fall from Smokescreen's lips just felt wrong. It felt as if the world was somehow entirely wrong, as if everything else about it wasn't already horribly so. Sunstreaker was gone, with their sparkling, and Smokescreen was in love with him. "No, you can't… you can't love me." Sideswipe tried to push Smokescreen away again.

"I do, Siders. I love you." Smokescreen's hands settled on Sideswipe's wrists, trying to rub gently over his plating. "I have for so long. Please, let me help."

Sideswipe shook his helm, burying his face in his hands and shrugging Smokescreen's hands from his wrists. "No…" he gasped, moaning through his renewed sobs.

::_Sideswipe!_::

The word suddenly screamed through his spark, echoing around his processor. Sideswipe straightened, surging upward as his body tensed, every line, cable and joint locking to stiffness. His spark burned, consumed suddenly in terror and horrified shock as one, desperate word blazed through his long-dormant and silent bond with his brother.

"Sunny?" Sideswipe whispered. He pushed himself to his feet, his body surging in response to his brother's transmitted terror and horror and his one-word plea for help. Smokescreen stood at his side, staring wide-optic'd at Sideswipe and the sudden change that encompassed him.

Sideswipe's breathing began to increase, heaving through his vents as his rage and determination joined together, propelling him out his door and to his brother.

* * *

Sunstreaker had driven until his sensors were blurred and unfocused, his tires were smoking and his chassis was shaking. His engine was redlining, and his sparkling was now throwing a full-on fit within his body, thrashing and shooting pained shocks across his spark. It only fueled Sunstreaker's agony until he physically could not continue any longer.

Sunstreaker transformed at nearly full speed, falling in a heaping crash to his knees as he rolled and skidded to a messy stop. His plating was scratched and dented as he knelt on his knees, panting and sobbing in exhaustion as he finally hit the wall of his endurance, both emotional and physical. Sunstreaker's tanks lurched, and without any warning he began to purge, vomiting up his churning tanks of energon in heaving coughs.

Sunstreaker gasped as he leaned his forehelm down onto the ground over his purged and bitter fluids.

"I'm so sorry…" Sunstreaker whispered, talking to his sparkling. "I thought we could make it work. I thought I could give you a family." Sunstreaker gasped, rubbing his helm into the dirt. His own wretched feelings of lifetime abandonment crashed in all around him.

A thundering crack sounded overhead, breaking the stillness of the desert air. Sunstreaker looked up, searching for the odd and yet familiar sound. His exhausted processor couldn't muddle through the recognition he had of the noise, but still his optics roamed the sky for an astrosecond.

Suddenly, arms wound around his shoulders, then fell to his elbows, hooking through and jerking him back roughly. He was pulled backwards, pinned against a hard body behind him. An angry, deep voice hissed into his audials, "Say goodnight, 'daddy.'"

Sunstreaker tried to flail, reaching out over his sparkbond automatically for Sideswipe. He jerked his arms against his attacker just before Starscream stepped in front of his pinned body. The Decepticon SIC sneered, then reared his fist back. Skywarp grinned and pulled Sunstreaker's arms tighter together, forcing him to painful stillness as Starscream punched Sunstreaker directly in the faceplates, cracking his helm backward and hard enough to send him offline.

Thundercracker sent a quick comm down to his two trinemates. "They've found us on their scans. Let's go."

Starscream transformed and blasted away, rising to join Thundercracker as they both roared away from the Autobot's territory. Skywarp sneered at the offline Autobot in his arms, then hefted his heavy, damaged body against his own. He faded away in a haze of purple, warping back in short sequences to their meet-up point as the Autobot alert siren began to wail.

* * *

Ratchet tore through the _Ark_, racing up the Command Deck as the alert sirens screamed. In his hand was his data pad with Sunstreaker's medical alert beacon keyed to download. It was blaring away as well, shrieking and blazing red with a wild alert. Sunstreaker's systems were redlining, and his sparkling was in acute distress. Ratchet was trying to raise Sunstreaker on his comm, and what he heard froze his lines solid.

"Say goodnight, 'daddy.'" The voice could only belong to one mech, one they had met countless times on the battlefield. Ratchet had treated his sly optics and gruff plating several times as a POW. There was no mistaking the voice of Skywarp.

Ratchet raced through the hallways and skidded onto the Command Deck. Alert lights were flashing and the deck was quickly becoming a hub of activity. All mechs were pouring in, forming up with their squads as Teletraan 1 began feeding information to Jazz and Ironhide, both of whom were leaning over the terminal and furiously trying to piece together what was happening.

"Seekers, two of them! Looks like Starscream'n Thundercracker!" Jazz hollered.

"Where's Skywarp? We picked up three Decepticon signals!" Ironhide forced another view on the Sky Spy.

"He's vanished. I can't raise Sunstreaker! His comm is off our grid!"

The doors slid open behind Ratchet, spiting out another two mechs onto the Command Deck. Sideswipe's optics met Ratchet's briefly before they both ran across the deck, heading for Jazz and Ironhide.

Smokescreen hung back, staring after Sideswipe.

Jazz briefly acknowledged Ratchet's presence. "Ratch, Sunny's been taken. Decepticon's snatched him." Sideswipe shook next to Ratchet, too much rage and fear coursing through him. "We're trying to figure out what's going on. We'll keep you updated on his condition-"

Ratchet cut Jazz off. "No, you don't have time for that." He inhaled. Sunstreaker's wish for privacy ended where operational and medical concerns took precedence. "Sunstreaker is sparked."

Jazz froze, twisting to stare at Ratchet. Ironhide heard the entire exchange, standing just next to Jazz. He turned as well, staring at Ratchet with a scrunched up, twisted and confused look to his face. "He's wha?" Ironhide fumbled.

Jazz exhaled harshly, his optics dimming slightly as he hung his helm. "It all makes sense now…" he muttered, staring at Ratchet. All of Sunstreaker's actions, all of his underpowered need for energon, all of his abdominal holding, his quiet talking to himself and his airsickness. It all made sense. Jazz felt like a special kind of fool.

Sideswipe stared wide-optic'd between Ratchet, Jazz, and Ironhide. Sunstreaker was gone. He couldn't raise him on his comm, he couldn't feel him over his bond, and the Seekers were getting away. "We don't have time for this!" he shouted, his vocalizer wavering. "We have to go after them!"

Mechs all around the Command Deck watched their commanding officers and the unfolding display. A few had heard Ratchet's pronouncement, and the buzz started to build.

Jazz's optics flicked over Sideswipe behind his visor as Ratchet spoke. "Sideswipe's right. If the Decepticons find out about his condition, it could be a disaster. Given that they targeted him specifically, I find it hard to believe that they _don't_ know about him, though I don't know how."

"Are we sure he was targeted? What if they just wanted to pick up an Autobot?" Ironhide asked, at the same time Jazz also asked, "What could happen, Ratch'?"

"We don't have time for this…" Sideswipe hissed again, shaking with rage. They weren't listening, they weren't _doing_ anything. Every second he was in the Decepticon's hands, the more horrible and tank-churning Sideswipe's feeling of dread and horrible fear became. Sunstreaker was in trouble, and it was all his fault, and no one was moving fast enough.

"Sparkling sparks in their primary gestation phase, still attached to the carrier parent, are malleable sources of energy," Ratchet explained. "That energy can be compressed before it has a chance to form into a full-spark. It can be harnessed, then can be converted to a power source, as opposed to a life source. Starscream isn't an idiot; he knows this. I have to believe that Sunstreaker was targeted for this reason."

Ironhide's optic's bulged as Jazz shook his helm. His lips thinned as he turned back to the Teletraan terminal. "The 'Cons want to re-power their army. They're hoping to use Sunstreaker's sparkling to do so."

Ratchet nodded, grim.

"We _don't_ have _time_ for this!" Sideswipe bellowed, losing it entirely. He pushed Ratchet aside, then slammed Jazz backwards against the Teletrann terminal. He was larger than Jazz, and the Saboteur hadn't been expecting Sideswipe to snap. Listening to Ratchet clinically talk about their sparkling and Sunstreaker and the terrifying actions the Decepticon's had in store was enough to entirely break Sideswipe's frayed and damaged control. "He's _dying_ out there! They're going to kill him, and all you're doing is talking! That is _my brother!_" Sideswipe's vents heaved as he pushed down on Jazz's neck. "That is _my sparkling_!" he shouted, bellowing at the top of his vocalizer. "That is _my_ _family!_"

Jazz's visor surged white-hot at Sideswipe's words. He twisted, flipping Sideswipe easily off of him and sent the red twin staggering backwards. Ironhide stared, wide optic'd and open mouthed at Sideswipe, and even Ratchet twisted to stare disbelievingly at Sideswipe. "It's you…" Ratchet whispered.

Sideswipe shuddered, his emotions surging within him in conflicting waves. His pain, his agony, his fear, his rage, each coursed through him in disparate swells. "Yes," he hissed, his vocalizer steadily rising in volume. "That's _my_ sparkling, and _my_ brother, and _my family_. We have to save them! You can't just let them die!"

The Command Deck fell completely silent. Teletraan continued to click and hum behind Jazz and Ironhide, and each of the mechs mobilizing in the back had frozen at Sideswipe's outburst. The mystery over Sunstreaker's reticence over the past month was finally answered, and the identity of the sparking parent was suddenly also entirely known. Even Red Alert turned to stare at the red twin in shock and disbelief.

"Your own brother…" Ironhide said slowly, breaking the silence. "You _frag_ your own _brother_…" Stillness continued to envelop the Command Deck, and not a mech moved. "You're sick!" he roared.

"I love him!" Sideswipe shouted back, his shaking returning full force. "Why won't you _do_ something!" He gasped, his gasps overtaking him as his trembles and shudders tore through his body. "I love him…" he whispered, staring pleadingly at Ratchet and Jazz.

Jazz slowly took his optics off of Sideswipe and twisted back around to the Teletraan terminal. "I can't get a fix on their location," he grunted, having to clear his vocalizer from the static that lay beneath his words. "I don't know where Sunstreaker is."

"I can help with that," Ratchet said, moving to Jazz's side. He handed over his data pad with slightly shaking hands. "I fitted him with a medical alert beacon for your trip, just in case something went wrong while you were gone. It's pinging now. We can track his movements through the human cellular network."

Jazz nodded as he networked the data pad to Teletraan's main terminal input. Sunstreaker's med alert beacon, still flashing dire warnings about the stresses on his system and sparkling, pulsed as it moved jerkily between human cell tower zones. They followed his movement with their optics, watching the dot fade in and out across the Canadian northwest. Jazz glanced back once, silently regarding Sideswipe behind him. He was still trembling as he began to fold in around himself.

"They've stopped," Ironhide growled. "We've got their location." He turned, his optics falling immediately on Sideswipe. He sneered, recoiling and stepping wide of the red twin.

Jazz's optics scanned the terminal as he inhaled. "Ratchet," he began, piecing together a plan within his processor as quickly as he could. The variables and multitudes of information he had to work with were astounding. He wished that Prowl and Prime were back onboard. It was just him and Ironhide for this one. "Link this data to Skyfire and have him ready to lift off in five. Silverbolt," Jazz turned as Ratchet nodded, calling out to the Aerialbot leader. "Get your wing on deck and ready to go with Skyfire. You're going to engage the Seekers and provide air cover for the ground. Ironhide, get your squads ready to move in on foot, but I need you for a special task." Jazz punched the comm unit on the Teletraan terminal. "Wheeljack, grab Perceptor and meet Brawn at the _Ark_ entrance in three minutes. Bring your explosives." Jazz turned to Cliffjumper and nodded, acknowledging that the minibot had heard him detail Brawn off of his squad and to Wheeljack. Jazz turned back to Ratchet. "You have five minutes to get your medical team ready. Meet us at the entrance."

Ratchet nodded and took off. He skirted past Sideswipe, not meeting his optics.

Jazz turned to the deck at large, taking in the confused and wild stares of the mechs. Sideswipe's revelation could not have happened in a more public place. "All right, let's roll out!" Jazz shouted, trying to break the din of hushed whispers and pointed stares. "We've got a mech to rescue!"

The Autobots began to transform and move off the Command Deck, all heading to the _Ark _entrance. Skyfire pinged in that he was ready and waiting for them to load up. Sideswipe started to move off as well, physically trying to gather himself together to join the fight.

"Not you, Sideswipe," Jazz said, his vocalizer firm and hard.

Sideswipe whipped around, staring at Jazz. "What? He's my brother! That's my sparkling! He's-"

"You are _way_ too close to this one, Sideswipe." He turned, staring Sideswipe down. "You are combat ineffective, and you are _not_ coming."

"No…" Sideswipe whispered, his frantic panic returning full force. "I have to come. It's my fault he's been captured in the first place! I _have_ to come! I _have_ to!" He rushed Jazz.

Ironhide swooped in, reaching over Jazz's shoulder and striking Sideswipe with the stock of his pulse rifle hard on Sideswipe's cheek and jaw, knocking him flat to the deck. Barely suppressed rage coursed through Ironhide, bubbling and fully directed at the two warrior mechs that had been under his leadership since the nearly the beginning of the war. They were _fragging_ each other, brothers, and worse than that, they had _lied_ to him. "No!" Ironhide bellowed. "You've done _enough_! You sit your aft here!"

Sideswipe huddled on the deck, thrown down as he turned his agonized optics up to Jazz and Ironhide. "Just _save_ him," he whispered, his vocalizer still shaking. "Do anything to me, I don't care, but just _promise_ me you'll save him…"

Ironhide shook his helm and walked away. He transformed, then squealed his tires as he hard throttled his engine and tore off the Command Deck. Jazz held Sideswipe's pleading, pain-filled gaze. "_Please…_" Sideswipe whispered.

Jazz didn't know what to say. This wasn't something he had ever expected or anticipated or prepared himself for. All his usual platitudes, his encouragements, his flippant and warm remarks had vanished. "Just… stay here," he choked, staring at Sideswipe's spark-destroyed form. His processor was rapidly replaying each and every memory of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker within the Autobots, and all the long years and vorns of their friendship, no, _relationship_ between each other.

How could they have all been so blind?

"You need to move, Jazz," Red Alert called out from his position at the Teletraan terminal. He would remain behind and in charge, coordinating the battlenet information from the Command Deck and relaying everything to Jazz and Ironhide in the field. Red Alert glanced down briefly at Sideswipe. "Are we notifying the humans for backup?"

Jazz shook his helm. "No, this is too serious. We can't have them frag it all up." Jazz sighed. "Comm Prowl. Explain what's happening. He'll be able to notify the right people. Also, send the Protectobots out to our perimeter. I want our area locked up tight. This is going to be a big show of force, and they're not going to like being kept out."

Red Alert nodded and turned back to the Teletraan terminal. Jazz threw one last look at Sideswipe.

Sideswipe lowered his helm to the Command Deck. He shuddered, shaking out of control as his emotions fully wreaked his entire processor and body. He hadn't thought things could get any worse than they already were. Oh, what a fool he had been, so many, many times.

It was in that position, sobbing and out of control entirely, hating himself and blaming himself for everything, that Sideswipe felt the first agonized tear deep within his spark. The core of his spark fractured, cracking with the forces and pressures of unknown immensities of pain. He froze, gasping at the paralyzing horror galloping through his body.

"No…" he whispered, choking the word out. "Sunstreaker!"

* * *

Skywarp and Thundercracker carried Sunstreaker's heavy, offline body between them as they entered the makeshift cave. Starscream bustled ahead, pushing forward to the extraction device he had cobbled together.

"Get him down," Starscream snapped, motioning for his trinemates to lay the golden Autobot out on the ground. Soundwave and his ever-present cassettes watched from the corner, only the red glint of their optics giving sign to their presence.

The two trinemates dumped Sunstreaker to the ground. Sunstreaker moaned, stirring slightly from his offlining.

"Idiots." Starscream grabbed his tools and electrodes. "If he onlines, restrain him. You can play with his offline body to your spark's content when I am through," Starscream hissed, pushing past his aggressive trinemate. Sunstreaker was stirring more now, preparing to online as he tried to force himself to consciousness. Starscream frowned. "Get ready to restrain him!"

Sunstreaker's world slowly took shape around him, though all he could feel was pain. His plating burned, his lines were on fire, and his head felt half-crushed. His spark was pulsing too fast, and his engine felt choked, as though he wasn't firing fast enough to stay stable. Slowly, his optics onlined as he tried to make sense of the muddled voices surrounding him.

Skywarp's ugly face grinned down into his gaze. "Hello, daddy," Skywarp sneered, leering at Sunstreaker. "Heard about your sparkling!"

Sunstreaker jerked, trying to recoil away from the Seeker in front of him. Strong hands grabbed onto his arms, pinning him down onto the ground. He struggled, but in his weakened state, he could barely fight the restraining power of his two captors.

Starscream came back into his sight as Sunstreaker struggled to look around. The red and blue Seeker attached a series of wires and electrodes to an open, powered canister, then picked up a small rotary saw from the rocky boulder next to him. He turned back to Sunstreaker, and when his optics met the golden Autobot's, he sneered with undisguised disgust. "Thank you for fragging around, Autobot," he hissed. "Your proclivities will power the next rise of the Decepticons." Starscream stepped forward, onlining the saw.

Sunstreaker lost it, throwing every micron and ounce of energy he had left within him to the fight. He struggled, jerking his arms and shoulders and trying to shake his captors' hands and holds loose. He kicked, violently twisting and pitching his lower body around for leverage. He tried to kick sideways at Starscream.

It was all to no avail. Skywarp grunted as Soundwave moved to help, and the larger blue mech threw his entire weight into pinning Sunstreaker's feet to the ground. Sunstreaker's hips continued to thrash as he jerked with his arms until Skywarp lost his thin and limited patience. Skywarp reached out, smashing his fist and elbow in Sunstreaker's helm repeatedly, bashing it backwards against the rocky cave floor.

Slowly, Sunstreaker's world began to fade away as the pain and disconnected beatings took their toll. His optics dimmed, cracked and nearly useless as his audials fritzed. He tried to jerk his hips away as Starscream finally drew to his side and kneeled down, but Skywarp's last elbow to his helm finally forced his stillness. He couldn't move, and only the haze of pain and dread surrounded him. "No…" he tried to whisper.

Starscream's saw whirred downwards, biting into his plating.

Sunstreaker threw his helm back and shrieked. His vocalizer wailed, then fritzed under the emotional impact and surge of input. The agonizing pain crested, and all at once, Sunstreaker was offline again, and the sounds of the saw against his body, the pain of the cutting, and the harsh, clipped tones of the Decepticon voices surrounding him followed him into oblivion.

* * *

Sideswipe crawled on his hands and knees, physically dragging himself down the _Ark's_ corridors to the entrance. His spark was burning, ripping itself in two as the sheer waves of agony rolled through him over his sparkbond with Sunstreaker. His entire being was engulfed in the torture ripping Sunstreaker apart, and it rocketed back across their bond in ever increasing torrents. He had to get to his brother. He _had_ to.

Sideswipe gasped as the pain overcame him once more, and he screamed through his gritted denta as he pressed his forehelm into the decking. He'd push through this; he'd get through this agony. Sunstreaker was enduring it. He would as well. He _had_ to get to his brother. All he could think, all he could feel, was getting to Sunstreaker, and if he had to crawl and drag his way to his side, halfway around the world, he would.

A stronger, harsher wave of spark-wrenching pain lanced him straight through his spark. He couldn't breathe suddenly, and the pressures in his lines surged as his energon pounded too fast, too strong. His joints locked, then blew out, and Sideswipe fell flat to the decking, gasping and trying to suck in air that wasn't there.

"Sunny…" he choked out, rasping through his choked vents. White-hot pain scratched across his optics, obscuring his vision as his audials rang, building too loudly until it was all he could hear. "Sunny!" he tried to shout over the ringing, as he tried to drag himself forward another inch, scratching his chestplates along the floor.

It was a futile attempt.

Sideswipe hollered, completely overcome. He couldn't move, and he couldn't do anything to stop the waves of unending agony rolling across their bond. He couldn't save himself, and worse yet, he couldn't save Sunstreaker. Everything in his life had led him to this moment, and he had no one to blame but himself. Sunstreaker was gone, dying now through unspeakable torture, and Sideswipe couldn't save him. He couldn't save him or their sparkling, and he had been the one to drive them both away.

Sideswipe always thought that he'd die next to his brother, most likely in the same manner in which they had always lived: brashly, loudly, and without apology. He had never thought, not once, that he would die all alone, physically feeling the agony of Sunstreaker's torture as he was face down and screaming into the decking. He was the most worthless mech that had ever lived. He blamed and hated himself to the depth of his being for every choice and decision he'd ever made, for his twisted love, and in the end, their end, this end, he was utterly unable to save the one mech who meant _everything_ to him.

He gasped, still struggling for breath, and then his world went dark.


	9. Chapter 9

**Unintended Nine**

* * *

"Frag! It isn't working!" Starscream shouted, frowning at the Autobot's sparkchamber. Sunstreaker's spark was nearly indistinguishable from the sparkling's spark, and he couldn't separate the two.

Sunstreaker hissed, panting through clenched and gritted denta as he tried to break free. All conscious thought was gone. He was operating purely on instinct and his baser needs of survival. Pain wreaked his entire body, his very being. His arms were trembling from the exertions of trying to free himself, and though his vocalizer had long since blown out from his agonized shrieks, he still keened a low, guttural, horrible sound in time with his frantic pants.

Starscream had sliced off the entirety of Sunstreaker's front chestplates, from his abdomen up to his sparkchamber, in a long, jagged cut. His protoform was exposed beneath: the crisscrossing lines, cables, and softly malleable metalmasses and nano-woven sheathes covering his vital systems. His reproduction tank lay just beneath his abdomen cables, full now when every other mech's was empty. His sparkling was struggling within, not knowing the danger or dire situation they both were lost in, but instinctively knowing that his own survival was growing dangerously thin. Sunstreaker's systems, which supported his entire life, were beginning to wane.

Thundercracker grunted as he continued to force Sunstreaker down into the dirt. The golden Autobot's struggles were weakening, but he still was throwing all his strength into each bid for freedom. "What are you going to do?"

"Let's just kill him and be done with it!" Skywarp shouted, angrily twisting the arm he had captured. Cables snapped, popping loose under the force of Skywarp's wrath. Sunstreaker continued to hiss and keen, but he didn't even register the damage to his arm.

Starscream glared at his two trinemates. His optics darted over Sunstreaker's exposed internals, searching for the next step. Stretching downward from Sunstreaker's spark chamber was the tiny, fragile sparkline, softly encased in a sheer, nano-woven metallic mesh. "I'm cutting the sparkline," Starscream snapped. It was risky, and if they didn't time it right they'd lose everything. "Watch his spark, Thundercracker!" Starscream snapped. "They'll separate as they start to die!"

Thundercracker grunted at Sunstreaker's renewed struggles. The golden twin twisted, refusing to give in. His wild, frantic attempts to escape were upsetting Starscream's coordination. He couldn't get to the sparkline with all of his desperate struggles. "Hold him!" he snapped.

Skywarp reared back, sneering in rage as he began pummeling Sunstreaker's helm. Once again, Sunstreaker's helm ricocheted off the hard-packed dirt floor with each punch, cracking and then crunching in loud, energon-slick impacts. Sunstreaker's movements slowed. His one remaining functioning optic was unfocused, fading in and out of illumination as the other cracked lens sputtered and flickered.

Starscream leaned in, onlining the saw once more. It buzzed, hissing as it surged close to Sunstreaker's vital systems.

All at once, the power to their tiny cavern shut out entirely, plunging them into darkness.

"Soundwave!" Starscream shrieked as the saw whirred to a stop. "Get us back online!"

In the darkness, Starscream heard Rumble and Frenzy clamber to the dead and offline husk of their computer terminal. Soundwave's red visor glowed in the blackness as he scanned silently. "Power generator: external failure. All systems: offline."

"Well, get them back online!" Starscream shrieked again. "We need that collection chamber to work!" He motioned furiously to the small container he had rigged with pulsing electrical inputs. It was designed to mimic the spark and sparkchamber of a carrier mech for their soon-to-be-stolen and transplanted sparkling. Pure quartz lined the interior, which would hopefully fool the spark into thinking it was surrounded on all sides by a carrier's spark. The container was then magnetized and subsumed within an electrical field, pulsing in time with the beat of a true spark. All Starscream had to do was physically transfer the sparkling's spark into the artificial spark chamber.

Soundwave moved to the collection chamber and withdrew a long cable from his chestplates. He connected the container to the generator and plugged his own power access cable in. The container hummed back online, pulsing with a faint, artificial sparkbeat. "Starscream: be efficient."

"How the frag do you expect me to cut it with no power to the saw?" Starscream hissed through the darkness, his ruby optics glinting at Soundwave.

"Here," Skywarp snapped, already entirely fed up with the whole procedure. "I'll do it for you." He reached down into Sunstreaker's internals and grabbed the nano-woven encased sparkline. He squeezed down, brutally cutting the pressure and the electrical flow from Sunstreaker's conjoined spark to the sparkling body within his reproductive tank.

Sunstreaker bucked wild, his systems surging in panic and a final, futile attempt to save his sparkling. He thrashed, kicking now with his free legs as his hips tried to jerk free. Starscream tried to throw himself down over Sunstreaker as Skywarp gripped down on Sunstreaker's sparkline with a gritted-denta ferocity.

"Die, you fragger," Skywarp hissed, lubricants spitting from his lipplates.

Slowly, and far, far too prematurely, Sunstreaker's spark and his sparkling's spark began to split apart, just as they would do when the final emergence time came. They separated, sticky tendrils of energy crackling in a fiery, crackling web as their forced separation began too soon.

Sunstreaker keened, howling at the pain as his body went rigid, locked into a high, convulsing arch as his backstruts trembled. Skywarp continued to squeeze, almost grinning now as they watched their prize nearly emerge. Starscream inhaled, ready to snatch at the sparkling's tiny fragmented essence.

All at once, their entire world was bathed in a cacophony of horrible light, terrible noise, and a torrent of destruction fell from above.

* * *

Smokescreen knew he should be feeling something. There should be some emotion, some sort of reaction racing through him at the revelation of Sideswipe's affair. No, not just affair… terrible, dark, twisted relationship with his _twin_ brother. And then their sparkling.

Instead, all he felt was a vague sort of numbness, a non-reaction, a sense of unreality. He remembered grabbing his pulse rifle and running to join his squad with Bluestreak, Hound, and Mirage. They moved together with everyone else to the entrance, then boarded Skyfire. There was nothing unusual about his actions, nothing odd or strange about his behavior, though the edges of his world were threatening to collapse under the torrent of emotion he was pushing back from his unreality. Bluestreak stood almost uncomfortably close, hovering over and around him as Hound and Mirage stared with wide, disbelieving optics.

Smokescreen sat next to Bluestreak on the bench seat in Skyfire's hold, Hound and Mirage opposite them both. Hound and Mirage's hands had snaked together, their fingers intertwining in a tight grasp. Smokescreen stared at their hands, still not feeling the enormity of everything.

"What are you looking at?" Bluestreak snapped suddenly, jerking Smokescreen from his reverie. He twisted, staring at his friend to try to see what he had done to inspire such an angry, harsh snap. Instead, Bluestreak was staring out at the rest of the hold, glaring furiously at the mechs gathered within. Smokescreen followed his gaze.

Nearly every one of the mechs onboard were staring, glancing, or peering his way, their optics wide and shocked. A hushed din was filling the hold, mechs whispering and talking fast amongst themselves, still too shocked to fully comprehend what had just occurred.

Smokescreen recoiled. He and Sideswipe had had a very public relationship over the past month, and suddenly he could only imagine what they were thinking. _Did he know? Had he always known about the twins? Was he complicit? Was he covering up for them? Primus, was he with both of them?_

Slowly, his hands began to shake. If only he had known. If only he could have pieced this together, somehow. If only he'd known, he could have protected himself from ever feeling anything, ever falling so far in love with Sideswipe. The two were fragging, even as Sideswipe smiled and laughed and made Smokescreen fall so much deeper in love with him. It all suddenly made perfect, perverted sense in his helm: Sideswipe's distance and his silence, Sunstreaker's mood swings and his terrible isolation. Their troubles. Their secrets.

Primus, what had he done? Smokescreen buried his helm in his hands, his whole body shaking. He had told Sideswipe less than an hour ago that he loved him. It was his dream to hear Sideswipe say the same in return. Instead, he'd listened to Sideswipe declare, for the entire world to hear, that he loved his brother, he _loved_ Sunstreaker, and that Sunstreaker's sparkling was _his_ illegal creation.

Smokescreen gasped as the pain began to set in deep within his spark. He wished suddenly, fervently, that he'd never, ever met Sideswipe. He wished he'd never become caught in the tangled web of their lies and deceit, their horrible, dark relationship, and their twisted love for each other. He wished Sideswipe could love him instead. He wished they were just brothers, and not lovers and in love. He wished for everything he couldn't have, and now, would never have.

Bluestreak's arm gently wound around his shoulders, pulling him close to his friend's body. Smokescreen crumpled against him, burying his helm in his friend's lap and arms.

Jazz glanced back to the hushed hold as he stood with Ironhide and Silverbolt in Skyfire's forward flight deck. There was a soft, whispered cadence of voices, but otherwise, the hold was still encased in stunned silence. His optics darted over Bluestreak, holding tight to Smokescreen as the red and blue doorwinger buried his faceplates in his friend's lap.

Ironhide stood next to Jazz, his feet locked shoulderwidth apart and straight, his arms clenched into hard fists that gripped dangerously onto his pulse rifle. His jaw cables ground together, over and over in a silent maelstrom of rage. Ironhide had been a steadily building torrent of anger since they had left the Command Deck. He hadn't spoken a single word since they had boarded Skyfire.

"On target in five minutes," Skyfire chimed, his voice heavy. Silverbolt had privately and quickly filled in his friend on a private commline as everyone filed onboard, and Skyfire had done everything he could to power them to Sunstreaker's location as quickly as possible. He cut corners, pushing his turbines and his giant space engines to their absolute maximum, rising high into the atmosphere to follow the curve of the planet. He didn't bother asking for NORAD's permission.

Jazz nodded, then turned to Ironhide. "'Hide, I need you in position now." Ironhide didn't react, merely moved into position, glowering and furious. Silverbolt nodded and headed back after him to join his own wing. They both passed Wheeljack, Perceptor, and Brawn, the last of whom was busy hard-packing and packaging his directed explosive charges.

Skyfire was steadily tracking Sunstreaker's beacon during the entirety of the flight, and as they drew closer, his long-range space sensors were able to pick out the exact telemetry of the Decepticons' hiding space. Starscream had taken him to a remote cavern in the Canadian outback, the wild, frozen woodlands of the central continent. The cavern itself was tiny, jutting out from a large granite cliff face set on a sloping mountainside. It was a perfect place for aerial troops to hide and a difficult one for ground troops to penetrate. A small generator and satellite receiver were tucked into the woodlands nearby, powering their tiny hiding place.

Jazz studied the scans with Brawn quickly before they both came to same conclusion. They would have to blow the entrance of the cavern. The tall, protruding slit of an entrance would have to be knocked down and blown open before they could hope to get in. If they blew it open, blew it wide, they could punch their ground troops through the wider access and storm the cavern. The Aerialbots would cover as the Seekers attempted to flee. If they got away, they got away; this wasn't an attack mission. Their sole purpose was to rescue Sunstreaker… and his sparkling. The thought was still unusual to Jazz, and he suspected it would be for some time.

Brawn left to package his explosives as Perceptor and Wheeljack discussed the best coordinated placement for them. They had to be careful to only blow the entrance. Sunstreaker was inside, held hostage, and in who-knows-what condition.

"On target in two minutes, Jazz," Silverbolt chimed in from a private line. He climbed, steadily gaining altitude above their target as Wheeljack, Brawn, and Perceptor met with the Aerialbots at the rear hatch. Jazz waited, then nodded to Silverbolt, and right on cue, the Aerialbots leapt. They transformed on exit, then waited for Wheeljack, Perceptor, and Brawn to jump as well. Together, with their three ground comrades clinging to their wings for support, the Aerialbots made their journey downward, slowly and silently.

Jazz turned and nodded to Ironhide. He was already maglocked into place and ready to go, though turbulent expression remained. Jazz wondered just how merciless he was going to be on target, and how many Decepticons would feel the outpouring of his wrath and bitter anger.

"One minute, everyone!" Jazz shouted as he felt Skyfire twist and begin to snake back around, descending rapidly now away from their target. Surprise was their friend, their greatest asset, and silence their goal. In the corner of the hold, Ratchet readied his crash gurney, assembling spikes of fluids, patches, static bandages, clamps, electrical reads, and anything else he had no idea if he'd need. Wheeljack had helped him carry supplies onboard before joining Perceptor for the explosive calculations, but the two medics checked in with each other every minute of the flight.

Skyfire fell to the treeline, then buzzed over their target. The mechs stood, filing in line at the hanger doors as they prepared to unload. Skyfire pinged into Jazz's commlink once more, signaling Silverbolt's arrival on target. _Ten seconds…_ Jazz thought, counting down the incredible length of time within his processor. _Ten seconds…. _

Slowly, Skyfire's ramp extended as his hanger doors slid open. The mechs ran off, forming into their squads and fire teams as they instantly sought cover in and amongst the lush trees and moss-covered rocky boulders of the steep mountainside. Patches of snow and ice were scattered around the dark dirt.

Tracks slipped, falling through the underbrush before Inferno caught his wild tumble. Jazz scampered forward, pushing ahead of the rest of the mechs as quickly and silently as he could, bracing himself down behind the cool stumpy overgrowth of a dead tree branch. A damp, wet chill hung in the air, obscuring the sunlight overhead in a cloud of steely grey haze.

Ahead of them, several hundred feet above the mountainside, was the cavern, a dark and foreboding slit cut into the hulking, wet rock. A tiny breeze blew over the mountainside as a wild bird called out a frantic cry of surprise at the sudden visitors. Jazz felt his spark pulse faster, his energon pound wilder though his lines as he caught a faint glimpse of hushed, sneaky plating high above the granite entrance. He hunkered down as Skyfire lifted off, and then all that was left was to wait.

The stillness and serenity of the silent mountainside blew in an instant as Brawn's package exploded, an instantaneous destructive force bearing down in the cavern entrance. Granite crumbled, melting away the dark granite entrance and raining cracked and shattered rock everywhere. Skyfire instantly reappeared overhead, roaring into place with Ironhide dangling from his open cargo hold in a maglocked harness and wielding a massive pulse rifle in each hand. He covered their advance from the air as Jazz motioned for the mechs to make their blind run up the mountainside and into the cavern. "Go! Go!" he shouted as he started to run.

"What the frag!" Thundercracker whipped around as the cavern exploded, shooting jets of rock and debris all around the opening. The entire cave rocked unsteadily, and he stared upward as the cavern ceiling began to crumble and rain down.

Soundwave hunkered down, his visor flashing. "Autobots: incoming," he intoned, no more frantic or worried than any other proclamation he had spoken before. The entirety of the Autobot army was bearing down upon them, and Soundwave was as monotone as ever.

"Frag this!" Skywarp hissed, shaking his hand loose of Sunstreaker's internals. Sunstreaker collapsed as Skywarp let go, trembling uncontrollably from the strain and shock to his systems. His mangled sparkline sputtered weakly within his chest, and both he and his sparkling were now barely clinging to the edges of life.

Skywarp stood. "I'm out of here!" he shouted. Thundercracker followed suit, staring at Starscream for an astrosecond.

Starscream breathed heavily, in and out through gritted, clenched denta. He could hear the Autobots tearing up the mountainside, could hear the crunch of their heavy feet as they prepared to storm the cavern, and heard the hum of their pulse rifles armed to fire. The granite dust was still raining down, rocks and bits of debris crashing and rolling near the cavern entrance. In his mind he could see the glorious rise of the Decepticons, again, this time powered by his intellect and might alone, and fueled with this one chance to return to their glory. If he only had a few more seconds…

"Let's go!" Thundercracker roared, reaching down to haul Starscream up by the elbow. Starscream shook his trinemate off and pushed away, then turned and transformed.

Jazz had just reached the rock-strewn entrance to the cavern and was clambering over the large mess they'd made of collapsed boulders and rocky debris as Starscream initiated his transformation sequence. Ironhide fired first, hanging from Skyfire's cargo hold with a clear and unobstructed view into the cavern. Jazz joined with Ironhide's laser blasts, and then Mirage and Hound were helping to paint the inside of the cavern with laser fire.

Starscream shrieked and fired back. He fired at the unstable cave entrance, sending debris raining down around Jazz, Mirage and Hound. They dove for cover, and that was all the time Starscream needed. The Seekers blasted out of the cavern, roaring hot turbines over the Autobots' plating as they screamed away.

"They're airborne! Silverbolt, go!" Jazz screamed into his commlink, watching the Seekers take flight. Hidden in the treeline, the Aerialbots rose in a wedge formation. They rose as one, then gunned forward together, streaking after the Seekers in loud rush of afterburners and thrust.

Jazz popped his helm back over the rocky ground covering, searching for any remaining Decepticons lurking within the cavern. His scans showed only one life-force, weak and starting to fade.

Ironhide chirped over his commlink. "I think I see Sunstreaker in the back, on the ground… no one else though."

"Sunstreaker?" Jazz called out in the darkness. "You in there?"

No answer. Mirage shared a quick, dark look with Jazz before Jazz began pushing himself slowly, carefully over the debris and into the dank cave. Hound followed, clambering over the protrusions as Mirage covered them both. Bluestreak quickly lined up next to Mirage, followed by Bumblebee. The rest of the mechs fanned out below, taking cover and setting up a quick perimeter patrol as they kept a constant watch for Decepticons or humans both, or any sign of danger. Skyfire continued to hover overhead, Ironhide still providing a protective overwatch.

Jazz waited for Hound to join him inside the dark, empty cavern. They raised their rifles as their optics pulsed, adjusting. Slowly, they moved forward, shuffling their feet in a low and ready crouch in the darkness as they trained their vision on the barely moving lump ahead. "Sunstreaker?" Jazz called out.

A soft moan, painful and guttural and barely alive, pierced the silence. Hound exhaled, shocked and sickeningly appalled as they drew closer. Slowly, they both got their first terrible glimpse of Sunstreaker and the horrible damage that had been wreaked upon him.

Jazz turned back to the entrance and bellowed. "Ratchet!"

Hound swallowed as Jazz ducked to Sunstreaker's side. Jazz reached for his hand, still locked backward in the same position that Thundercracker had restrained him in. Sunstreaker was too weak to move, too weak to do anything except drown in the torrential waves of agony that enveloped his body and spark.

"Sunny, we're here," Jazz whispered as he heard the first clatter of Ratchet and Wheeljack pour over the boulders at the entrance. Harsh calls for equipment and help echoed around the cavern, intermixed with Ratchet's cursing. Heavy footsteps began to race towards them, and headlights flashed on all around. "We're here, Sunny… We're going to get you out of here."

Sunstreaker's one optic flickered and faded as he tried to curle one finger around Jazz's.

Ratchet took over immediately, pushing Jazz aside as he and Wheeljack collapsed to the ground around Sunstreaker. Wheeljack's audial fins were too-brightly illuminated, belying his shock as he took in the damage.

Jazz pushed Hound back as Ratchet began to assess Sunstreaker. "Get those boulders clear. We need to get him out of here _now_."

Hound turned and fled, grateful to escape the haunting image of Sunstreaker's mangled and destroyed body.

Mirage could see the horror written on Hound's faceplates as he escaped into the mountain air. "We need to move these boulders," Hound choked out. "We need to get him out of here." Bumblebee began barking orders, and one by one, the mechs cleared the cavern entrance.

Hound's optics roved over the group, falling on the darkly lit optics of Smokescreen. Smokescreen held his gaze, seeing his friend's pain and his barely-concealed horror at what he had seen. Smokescreen turned away, trying to focus on holding a tight patrol. His fingers squeezed all around his pulse rifle, and he physically resisted the urge to blindingly fire into the treeline.

In the cave, Wheeljack shook his helm as Ratchet growled in frustration. "His systems are frying all over his grid! The pressures are too high!" Energon flowed out of Sunstreaker from ruptured lines, spilling over his frame and onto the ground.

"If we try to bring the pressure down too fast, his spark will stop." Wheeljack tried to clamp another burst line in Sunstreaker's shoulder.

"It's no worse than what's happening now! If we don't do something he'll die in a few minutes!"

Wheeljack desperately stared over Sunstreaker's damages. "His body is trying to expel the sparkling. The sparkline has been severed."

Ratchet cursed as he scanned Sunstreaker's reproduction chamber. "Neither of them can survive emergence now. We have to stop it, or they'll both die."

"_How?_" Wheeljack's frantic plea pierced Jazz's audials.

Ratchet glared at the engineer. "We have to figure it out."

Mirage called out from the cavern entrance, waving as a large beam of light cut through the darkness. "The entrance is clear!" he hollered. "Skyfire is ready to go!"

"Ratch,'" Jazz said, his vocalizer wavering. "We can get him out now."

Ratchet nodded as he reached for the litter. "Go on Wheeljack's side, Jazz," Ratchet ordered, sliding the litter alongside Sunstreaker. "You two roll him towards you gently, on three." Ratchet counted, smoothly and efficiently, and Wheeljack rolled Sunstreaker's hips and legs as Jazz moved his shoulders and helm, cradling him as best as he could. "And down," Ratchet nodded, a second later, settling Sunstreaker onto the litter. He nodded, and after a few small adjustments and frowns over Sunstreaker's internals, spoke again. "Let's go."

Wheeljack and Ratchet grabbed either side of the litter at Sunstreaker's shoulders while Jazz hefted at his legs. They steadied themselves, then moved quickly toward the sunlit-entrance, their optics squinting and retracting down to normal illumination as they raced out. Skyfire was hovering as close as he could to the mountainside, angled oddly with his hanger ramp jutting out into the dirt. The rest of the mechs were still on guard, half watching for Decepticons and half watching the procession of Sunstreaker's litter as Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Jazz raced him onto Skyfire.

"Let's go!" Mirage called out, rounding up the mechs as soon as Sunstreaker was ensconced on board. "Let's move, let's move!" Quickly, they all filed back on to the giant shuttle, falling into place on the jump seats along the cargo hold as Ratchet and Wheeljack continued to work furiously on Sunstreaker at the gurney in the back.

It took only 20 seconds to get the rest of the mechs on board, but Jazz was already gritting his denta in impatience by the time Skyfire lifted off and started gunning for home. Ironhide unbuckled his harness and met Jazz at the flight deck, glancing with dark and hooded optics at Sunstreaker and the flurry of activity surrounding him as he passed.

"Looks bad," Ironhide grunted. Jazz nodded.

"Silverbolt reports he's turning around and heading back to base," Skyfire intoned. "He'll form up on our wing in a few minutes."

"How long until we reach the _Ark_?" Jazz gripped his rifle, squeezing hard.

Skyfire paused, calculating his fastest possible speed. "About 26 minutes."

Jazz exhaled, blowing air through his vents heavily as he sagged his shoulders. He had no idea if that would be fast enough. He didn't know much about medical care, but he knew that Sunstreaker didn't have that kind of time. He hoped that was fast enough.

From behind, Jazz heard frantic shouts from Ratchet's corner.

"Choke his engine! Do it now!"

"That could kill him, Ratchet! His spark could stop!"

"He's already dying!"

Jazz turned and watched, unable to look away as Ratchet and Wheeljack tried everything they could, everything they could think of over Sunstreaker's body. Curses flew, mixed in with alarms and warning chimes as the heavy tension and absolute silence that deafened the cargo hold slowly built, choking the gears and sparks of every mech on board. They all were still, quiet and focused on the terrible display. They hadn't lost anyone, not yet, not in all the years on Earth.

Was this the day?

Energon pooled on the cargo hold floor, sticky and bitter smelling. It was thick with the added nutritive ores for Sunstreaker's sparkling, half-processed into useable fuel and frame-building substances. Ratchet and Wheeljack slipped on the maroon energon as the puddles grew large and their frantic race against time grew slim.

* * *

Sideswipe's darkness slowly pulled apart as the rush and whine of turbines split his processor in two. He forced his optics to online, pushing his all-encompassing pain.

Mechs were running everywhere, filling in the empty rocky courtyard outside the _Ark_ entrance as they filed off of Skyfire. First Aid rushed by with an emergency case towards the shuttle. Sideswipe gasped, pushing himself upright. They were back. Sunstreaker… Where was his brother?

Jazz cleared a path, hollering for the mechs to get out of the way as he ran down Skyfire's hanger ramp. Wheeljack and Ratchet followed, wheeling down an emergency gurney and rushing to meet First Aid. They hollered and called out vital stats, shouting back and forth.

A yellow arm flopped off the side, and Sideswipe's spark stopped cold.

Sideswipe tried to push forward, frantically gasping as he lurched toward the three medics. Jazz saw him stumbling, uncoordinated, and tried to intercept his wild rush. Sideswipe pushed him off, intent solely on reaching his brother's side.

Sideswipe shouted, keening, when he finally saw Sunstreaker, his optics darting over and around the horrific damage and torture his brother had endured. His plating was ripped away, his protoform and internals exposed and ruined, and his spark was sputtering and flickering wildly without rhythm. Sunstreaker's engine smoked, knocking horribly and choking on its last few impulses. Leaking, spilled energon was everywhere.

"Sunstreaker!" Sideswipe bellowed, racing to his brother's side. Ratchet finally recognized his presence, glancing briefly at Sideswipe as the red twin pushed up against Wheeljack.

Sunstreaker's breaths came in short, shallow puffs, too little to sustain the fires in his engine. "Sunstreaker, I _love_ you…" Sideswipe whispered. "I am so sorry… " He repeated his litany, begging Sunstreaker to hear him.

Sunstreaker's hand twitched, pressing down on Sideswipe's chestplates with the last tiny bit of his strength.

Sideswipe trembled, feeling his brother's faint and weak movements along his badly damaged arm. "Sunny…" he growled, focusing on his brother. If love could will healing and will the universe to rights, Sideswipe would give his life for his brother, right there on the spot.

First Aid's scanner wailed. Sunstreaker's engine sputtered and then finally stopped as his breaths ceased entirely. His spark surged wildly out of control, starved of the energon feeding its small chamber.

"His engine's stopped!" Ratchet roared. "We're losing them both! Wheeljack," Ratchet hollered, "pump his engine!"

Wheeljack clambered on top of Sunstreaker's body on the gurney, and dug his fingers manually into Sunstreaker's engine housing. His fingers searched within his internals for the pistons, then began pumping them manually, up and down, stimulating an energon pumping and flow rhythm to keep his systems, and most importantly, his spark chamber, alive and functioning.

Jazz tried to drag Sideswipe away, but he was rooted to the spot. He couldn't tear himself away from his brother's side, not now.

Ratchet shouted at the red twin. "Sideswipe, did you and Sunstreaker decide whether or not you were going to keep the sparkling?" Sideswipe's wild optics flew to Ratchet, unfocused. "They are _both dying_, right now, and if you tell me to, I can focus on Sunstreaker and let the sparkling go. I _cannot_ guarantee you I can save them both."

Sideswipe's world crashed and burned. Everything shattered, from the depth of his spark, at Ratchet's words. He could never choose, not between the other half of his spark and the love of his life, and the future they had inadvertently created between them in their sparkling. "You have to save them!" he hollered, entirely out of control. "You _have_ to save them both! You have to! This is _my family_!"

Ratchet turned away, speaking to his medical team. "We need to spike the sparkling and set up an artificial flow of energon to his systems."

First Aid's optics bulged wide. "I can't do that," he stammered. "I can't spike those tiny lines... They're not even full-formed."

Wheeljack's optics surged, meeting Ratchet's with his own fearful stare. His hands continued to pump within Sunstreaker, keeping an even artificial rhythm as he shook his helm, silently.

Ratchet growled and hopped onto the gurney, straddling Sunstreaker's body behind Wheeljack. "'Aid, get us to the medbay!" he shouted as he began cutting into the top of Sunstreaker's reproductive tank. He forced his hands to stillness and his processor to quiet. He had to be able to do this. He had to.

Sideswipe tried to race after the gurney as it began to roll away. "Sunny!" he shouted. "Ratchet, you_ have_ to save them!" His vocalizer cut in and out, surging with every agonized shout. "That's my _family_! Ratchet!"

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, forcing him to stop his relentless chase. He watched, struggling helplessly against his captor as First Aid ran his brother, his sparkling, and the medical team away, disappearing down the corridor and towards the med bay. He continued to shout, screaming his love for his brother, his desperate pleas for forgiveness, and his frantic shouting at Ratchet. His wails, his bellows, and his body-wreaking keens continued until he was limp and trembling, too far beyond his own limits and reality.

He continued to struggle, trying to break free of his captor's hold, and this time, the heavy arms released him. He stumbled, entirely too weak to stand and overcome with too much painful agony. Each breath was a harsh drag of bitter air, destroying his internals. His optics and audials burned, over-sensitized from his wildly out of control emotions and his devastated and destroyed spark. Too much was happening, and his world was teetering on the edge of absolute destruction. _Sunstreaker…_ He couldn't think, nothing at all, beyond the image of his brother and the horrible feelings rolling through their shared spark.

Sideswipe tumbled sideways, crashing his shoulder into the bulkhead before slowly sliding down the cold, orange wall. "Sunny…" he whimpered, collapsing to the decking.

His keens echoed around the silent entryway. Not a single mech moved to his side. Not a single mech moved to help him, or offer him a shoulder or hand. They were all frozen, rooted to the spot and unable to process anything beyond the horrible display that had just unfolded before their optics. No one knew what to do, and not a soul knew what was going to happen now.

* * *

Sideswipe sat by his brother's medberth, absolutely still. He was transfixed with the rise and fall of Sunstreaker's chestplates, signifying the O2 intake that fired his engine and pumped the energon within his system. A steady intonation signaled the slow and even pulse of his spark, harmonized with the inhalations and exhalations of his vents.

Sideswipe had been sitting at his brother's berthside since Sunstreaker had come out of surgery days ago. Ratchet, Wheeljack, First Aid, and Hoist had spent hours working to stabilize both him and his sparkling. Wheeljack and Hoist worked on Sunstreaker; Ratchet worked on the sparkling with First Aid's assistance.

The sparkling had a full artificial energon pump going, rigged by Ratchet through a tiny spike in one of his underdeveloped central lines near his proto-spark chamber. Sunstreaker's blown lines and cracked tanks had to be repaired and replaced, but his energon chamber was steadily repressurized with an even flow of regular energon, and his engine was reignited with clean air, good intake, and solid fuel. Slowly, their independent systems began to heal, and their physical bodies began to stabilize.

Their sparks were another matter entirely.

The sparkline descending from their conjoined sparks was damaged, horrifically so. The sparkling's body wasn't receiving information from the conjoined sparks of his carrier or himself, which kicked off the entire emergence process and the ceasing of life support functions within Sunstreaker's reproduction tank. After Ratchet set up the artificial energon pump system for the sparkling, the body could continue to survive for days, weeks even… but without a spark, it would never be more than a husk of a mech. It would never be alive.

Slowly, their sparks had regained strength, pulsing with rhythm and beat instead of flickering and sputtering within Sunstreaker's chestplates and sparkchamber. Slowly, the conjoined sparks healed, drawing strength from each other through their dual journeys back to physical life.

The sparkline was the worst damaged internal, and also the most vital. Ratchet studied it carefully for any sign of regeneration. Without the sparkline whole and intact, there would be no sparkling. He would have to terminate it. Sunstreaker's spark could not support a secondary spark full-time, and the parasitic effect on his own systems would kill him if the sparkling's spark did not emerge.

However, both Sunstreaker and his sparkling wanted to live, though, spark-deep, and both fought each and every day to survive. The sparkline began to steadily regrow, strengthening little by little as Sunstreaker stayed in his medical recharge for days.

Sideswipe camped outside the medbay for the entirety of Sunstreaker's first surgery, after he had collected himself enough to make it down to the medbay. Jazz waited as well, though he made no move to join Sideswipe or to speak with him in the hallway. He stood an awkward distance away from Sideswipe's destroyed, dejected slump. Many hours later, Ratchet had finally emerged, and after casting a long, wary glance at Sideswipe, addressed Jazz first with a report on Sunstreaker's condition.

Sideswipe went to Sunstreaker's side and never left. He stayed in the medbay for days, sitting at his berthside all day and all night. He recharged in fits and starts, not wanting to be offline for more than absolutely necessary. He had to watch his brother's plating rise and fall with his inhales. If he didn't, he didn't know if Sunstreaker would actually breathe.

Ratchet forced energon at Sideswipe after the second day. "Either you drink this, or I spike your lines like your brother." His voice was cold and gruff, and his optics held no warmth as he glared at Sideswipe and shoved a cube of energon under his nose.

It tasted of nothing. Sideswipe drank by routine, but his optics were fixed to Sunstreaker's body. Ratchet stared at him for a long moment before moving away silently.

The hard impact of Ironhide's pulse rifle had cracked Sideswipe's cheekarch, and though his self-repairs were slowly mending the damage, his dermal plating had swelled with the broken energon capillaries suffusing his dermal plating and the sensors within. His optics were under pressure from the swelling, and his vision was blurred on the one side. His face was swollen and disfigured, and though not life threatening, it was something that was always readily and easily taken care of in the past. Ratchet never offered to fix Sideswipe's injury, nor examine it, nor offered to ease any pain from the self-repairs.

During the first 24 hours after Sunstreaker and his sparkling came out from surgery, no one knew if either of them were going to fully survive. Sideswipe whispered every loving thought, tender feeling, and deepest endearments to Sunstreaker's offline body, though his words were swallowed in the thrum and flow of the artificial life support systems working to keep both Sunstreaker and their sparkling alive.

Sideswipe kept a ceaseless vigil over his brother and his sparkling's fragile body, counting breaths and spark pulses throughout each day. He skipped every duty shift. Not a mech seemed to care. No one, other than Ratchet, came to their medberth. Everyone stayed away, far away. For that, Sideswipe was relieved. His revelation had been ill-timed and poorly thought out, but it had spurned them to action, and here Sunstreaker was, alive when he could be dead, if not for a few seconds more. He'd never take that back, not ever. Sideswipe knew the ramifications of their actions would come to pass, and that their future was mired in dark uncertainty at best. He was unspeakably grateful that his crewmates, his comrades, the mechs he had lied to for years, had all jumped in to save Sunstreaker and their sparkling immediately, without stopping to judge them first. There would be time for judgments and pronouncements later. For the time being, he watched his brother breathe, inhaling in and out.

It was hours later when Sunstreaker finally onlined. His breaths changed, dropping from their regular depth to a faster cadence, as if he were readying himself to run or fight. His optics flickered, barely illuminating, and then suddenly he was surging upright, gasping and struggling to break free of his phantom captors. His hand tried to jerk free of his brother's, but Sideswipe held his grip tight, refusing to let go.

"Sunny!" Sideswipe's voice wavered as he clenched his brother's hand. "You're safe! You're alright! You're safe, you're safe!"

Sunstreaker's helm whipped around, staring wide optic'd at his brother. Their gazes met, fearful and shocked together. Sunstreaker's optics darted around the medbay, then over his own body. "I was... Starscream..." He vocalizer cut in and out as his words shook. He pressed his hand over his abdomen as he burned a question into Sideswipe's optics.

"He's alright," Sideswipe whispered. "You both are alright. Ratchet saved you both." His hand started to rub over Sunstreaker's plating, stroking over his hand and wrist. "Our sparkling is safe." He smiled a shaky smile at his brother.

Sunstreaker's optics widened and he drew back in surprise. He didn't speak, but continued to stare at his brother, not understanding.

"Sunstreaker…" Sideswipe stood, rubbing his thumb over his brother's hand and warm plating. He had spent days thinking over everything, over their entire lives and all of his horrible, terrible choices. He had so much to account for. "I'm here, Sunstreaker. I'm never going to leave you or our sparkling." He inhaled, keeping a firm clamp down on his wildly surging emotions. He had known for days what was coming and what he had to do. His determination coiled tight around his unquenchable love for his brother. "Nothing is ever going to separate us. Not anymore."

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed to slits as Sideswipe spoke. He felt entirely unbalanced, and though fuzzily, in the fog of his still-healing processor, he faintly remembered hearing his brother's shouts of love and desperate pleas for forgiveness, he still had the crystal clear image of Sideswipe wrapped up in Smokescreen's embrace seared into his optics. He couldn't speak, instead swallowing past the lump that had risen within his throat. He wanted to believe in something different, but he had always been hurt.

Sideswipe held his brother's gaze hard as he continued. "I will never leave you. I love you, Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker's mouthplates slowly fell open as he stared at his brother. They had never, not once, spoken those words aloud to each other. He was nearly desperate to hear them from Sideswipe, to hear his brother's declaration of love. He had given up long ago, though. Sunstreaker's optics darted over Sideswipe's faceplates, catching on his large, ugly bruise and cracked dermal plating. "What happened?" he whispered, his vocalizer shaking.

"Everybody knows, Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker's optics surged as he stared, horrified, at his brother. Sideswipe continued, nodding. "Everybody knows. When you were taken… I... lost it." Sideswipe shuddered. "You are everything in my world, absolutely everything." Sideswipe gripped his brother's hand, winding their fingers together. "I _cannot_ live without you, Sunstreaker." Sunstreaker's optics drifted down to his dark bruise. Sideswipe squeezed his hand as he inhaled, deeply. "We have to leave, Sunny. We have to run."

Sunstreaker breathed deep, trying to control his spinning, surging processor and spark. Everyone knew, knew their horrible, twisted secret. His optics caught on Sideswipe's unhealed bruise once more. What would happen? What would they do? Would it all come crashing down now? Would they be forced apart, after everything? And their sparkling… Sunstreaker's hand drifted back to his abdomen, his unconscious physical reaching and connection to the life within him, the life he and Sideswipe had made together, out their physical love for each other. What would happen to him?

"Where will we go?" he asked, his voice dark and husky.

"To the humans. We can hide in the cities and work our way down the West Coast." Sideswipe smiled softly, his fingers still stroking over Sunstreaker's plating. "I know you like the sunshine. I'll take you to California. We can hide in the cities from the Decepticons. I will keep you safe, Sunstreaker. I won't let anything happen to you, or our sparkling. I swear. I swear to Primus." His hands gripped down around Sunstreaker's, holding his hands within both of his own.

Sunstreaker stared at his brother. Sideswipe held his gaze unflinchingly

Finally, Sunstreaker nodded.

Sideswipe gripped Sunstreaker's hands tight. "I'm going to get some supplies. I need… your energon, additives, our weapons." His processor spun, whirring through the lists he had made while watching over Sunstreaker. "We need to go quickly. I'll get everything ready and come back for you." His voice was hushed, a quick whisper.

The medbay doors slid open, their overloud hiss breaking the heavy silence and spark-thick emotions that had sprung up around the brothers. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker turned as one, their helms swiveling to the door as they stared at the surprise visitor.

Prowl stood silently in the doorframe, staring at them with hard, unreadable optics.

Sunstreaker jerked a quick rush of air as he saw their SIC. Prowl had been out with the humans on a long-term mission, and had ceded command control of the _Ark_ to Jazz and Ironhide. He wasn't due to return for more than six months. His presence, his early return, could only spell disaster. It could only mean one thing.

Sideswipe pushed Sunstreaker's faceplates gently with his fingers until they were locked onto each other's gazes once more. "I'll be back, Sunstreaker," Sideswipe whispered. "I promise." He held his brother's gaze for a long moment before he stretched down and locked their lips together in a tender, spark-affirming kiss. Sunstreaker moaned, his other hand rising to grasp at Sideswipe's shoulders as their kiss deepened.

Slowly, they pulled apart, resting their forehelms against one another. "I love you," Sideswipe whispered against Sunstreaker's lips

Prowl hadn't moved, and had watched the entire kiss unfold before him. He remained stony and impassive as Sideswipe slipped from the medbay, passing him by. The red twin skirted him entirely before darting out of the medbay.

Sunstreaker held his breath, then froze as Prowl's gaze shot instantly to him. Sunstreaker held Prowl's harsh stare until Ratchet beckoned Prowl into his office. Sunstreaker's spark was pulsing too fast, too hard, and his engine was firing wildly when the two officers disappeared behind Ratchet's closed door. He sank backwards, shaking slightly.

What would happen now? His processor was spinning, wildly out of control and balancing on the edge of his emotions. This was crazy. It was madness. They were wrong, they were insane, and they were caught, now, flagrantly breaking the law. Still... his spark _wanted_, so badly, to believe his brother and to collapse into the welcoming feeling of his love.

Sunstreaker's fears danced throughout his processor, screaming at him with all their pained truths.

Raised voices sounded from Ratchet's office suddenly, and the unmistakable tones of the irate medic bled through the bulkhead. Sunstreaker winced. He hoped Sideswipe would hurry.


	10. Chapter 10

**Unintended Ten**

* * *

"Is there anything else you need, Prowl?" Ratchet growled.

"Not at this time." Prowl's voice remained tightly controlled. "I will be following up with you in the next few days."

Ratchet shook his helm. He hesitated, seemingly chewing over his words before he spoke. "Are you sure about…" he finally spat out, waving his hand, encompassing seemingly everything within his tired wrist wave.

Prowl nodded. Ratchet's face twisted as he swallowed. His optics darted around, slitting in anger. "Alright," he said, his voice tight and firm. "Alright, let's get this over with."

Prowl hesitated. "Are you certain that Sunstreaker is healthy enough to move?"

"He's been on his aft for a week now, and he's sucking down enough energon and ores to build three new sparklings. His self repairs have taken over nicely." Despite himself and his swirling mixture of furious rage and anxious worry, Ratchet smiled thinly. "Sunstreaker's just too stubborn to offline."

Prowl motioned for Ratchet to lead the way out of the medic's office. Ratchet inhaled as he passed Prowl, and his optics immediately fell on Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker's wide, over-bright optics lanced through Ratchet's spark. Sunstreaker lay on his medberth, tense and anxious, with all of his gears, lines, and cables coiled far too tight.

Prowl told Ratchet of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's kiss just after Sunstreaker's awakening. Ratchet watched the two brothers from within his office, peering out in an almost scandalous fashion as they embraced and clung to one another. It felt sordid to Ratchet, watching their forbidden and love.

Sunstreaker's optics slid over to Prowl. Prowl's expression was firm as he advanced on Sunstreaker's berth. "Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker tensed but didn't flinch. His entire body coiled impossibly tighter as his optics surged white-bright. His jaw thrust out, and he refused to back down.

Ratchet despiked Sunstreaker's lines. Sunstreaker's optics slid over to Ratchet's hands briefly, then up to his face. Ratchet wouldn't meet his gaze, though his touch was gentle against Sunstreaker's plating and his lines.

Prowl held out his hand for Sunstreaker. "Let's go find your brother, Sunstreaker."

* * *

Sideswipe raced through the _Ark's_ hallways, his lines pounding. He didn't see anything before him, blowing past the few mechs he passed. They stared at him, pushing back against the corridors in an effort to get away from him. Sideswipe didn't notice at all. He was too out of it, focused solely on Sunstreaker and what they needed. They had so little time, especially now that Prowl was back on board.

He palmed his way onto the lift and shifted nervously as it made its slow way down to the lower decks and cargo holds. They needed energon, and lots of it.

Nothing could happen to Sunstreaker. Not now. Losing him in this immediate, horrible way had been the single worst experience of Sideswipe's life, compounded and made worse by knowing that as Sunstreaker lay dying, all their feelings and love had been torn brutally apart. Sunstreaker's last words to him had been words of hate and bitter vitriol. If that had been it… If Sunstreaker had truly been taken from him, Sideswipe knew that his life would have been over as well. He would have only had one purpose remaining: to destroy the Seekers and avenge his family before lying down to join his brother.

There would be time for reckonings and explanations soon. They had to get out of the _Ark,_ though, before anything. They had to escape. The _Ark_ and all the mechs on board were now potential enemies. What would they do? Would they try to separate them? Take their sparkling?

He would kill any mech who tried to separate them. He would. No matter who it was.

The lift finally spat him out at the lower decks, and Sideswipe hurried down the dim corridor to the cargo hold. He palmed his way in, entering his code as squad leader to gain access to the locked stores. Heavy kit bags were hung on the wall, and he grabbed two to load full of collapsed energon cubes. Sideswipe breathed deeply as he stared at the energon stores, stacked high against the far wall. It was silly, cast against the totality of his actions, but this was a new crime he was about to commit: theft. He'd been an Autobot for years, ever since waking up in the Autobot's medbay with Sunstreaker standing over him, wearing the red-emblazoned sigil on his chestplates. He'd never crossed his comrades before.

They _had_ to run. He'd always known that no one would understand, not at all, about their relationship. The truth was out now, and there was no going back.

Sideswipe set the kit bags on the deck and began loading up as much energon as he could fit into each. He had so little time.

* * *

Sunstreaker padded silently down the corridor with Prowl. Prowl hadn't spoken to him since asking after his brother and his whereabouts back in the medbay. Sunstreaker hadn't wanted to respond, and didn't say anything for a long moment. Prowl had asked again, his voice hard.

"Where is your brother, Sunstreaker?"

Sunstreaker had been sitting on the edge of the medberth, staring furiously at Prowl. His emotions had been raging, swirling between anger, furious helplessness/ and terrible fear. He had never before feared his fellow Autobots. This was the only home he had ever truly had, and the only friends he'd ever made. He couldn't predict how any of them would react to this, to _them_, except with anger, denial, and rage. The unknowns, the variables, the cliff face they had just driven off of presented a new kind of fear. What would happen now?

"Our quarters," Sunstreaker choked out, spitting the words bitterly at Prowl. It was too much to hope that he and Sideswipe could actually be together.

Prowl had nodded and then, surprisingly, helped Sunstreaker to his feet from the medberth. He waited until Sunstreaker was steady, then motioned for Sunstreaker to precede him out to the _Ark_'_s _corridors. Ratchet hung back, staring as the golden twin had squared his shoulders and stalked out of the medbay.

Through it all, Prowl remained silent and impassive, moving Sunstreaker along through the corridors with a focused resolution. Sunstreaker's optics flashed sideways, trying for some indication of what was about to happen. His entire body was coiling tighter and tighter, his stiff and tense joints made ever more immoveable with each step. Anxiety wracked his spark as a horrible sensation of helplessness settled over him. This was the absolute worst way he ever felt: helpless, furious, and unable to force his will or way. It was how he had felt for years watching Sideswipe, and how he had felt on the sidelines of the _Ark_, as the rest of the crew made friends, enjoyed their camaraderie, and bonded in a way that left him on the outside. He was always the outsider, perpetually and _ad infinitum_. To the crew, to the _Ark, _to their group home so long ago, and even to Sideswipe.

Now though, he was thrust into the center, into the spotlight. His life of constantly seeking attention, adulation and validation to offset the coldness and emptiness within him was ripped away and reversed on itself in a cruel mockery. Sideswipe had kissed him, said he loved him, and the one thing he had silently wished for was here. Now they were about to lose it all, thanks to the sudden attention right on them and on their secret. Prowl's footsteps marched Sunstreaker forward, closer to the inevitable.

Sunstreaker finally halted outside the door to their quarters. Sunstreaker turned a scathing glare on Prowl.

"Open the door." Prowl was once again brusque and efficient. "We need to get Sideswipe."

Sunstreaker lips twisted as they pressed together. His fingers pounded away at his locking code with too much force. Visions of himself and Sideswipe separated and locked in different cells in the brig played over in his processor.

Prowl motioned Sunstreaker inside with a slight tip of his helm. His chevron tilted slightly, the red pointed tips briefly pushing into the dim quarters as they broke the threshold of the doorway. Sunstreaker scowled at Prowl before be stepped into his quarters. Prowl followed, slow.

"Stop right there, Prowl!" The unmistakable whine of a charging pulse rifle filled the room as Prowl spun around and came face to face with Sideswipe, hiding just inside the doorframe and pointing his pulse rifle right at Prowl's chestplates and spark.

"Sideswipe," Prowl began.

Sideswipe optics remained fixed on Prowl as his finger tightened over the trigger. "Sunny," he whispered, motioning with his helm. Sunstreaker moved quickly, sliding behind his brother.

"Sideswipe, lower your weapon," Prowl began again. His gaze briefly flashed to Sunstreaker before fixing to Sideswipe. He tried to step forward, toward the twins.

"Don't move, Prowl!" Sideswipe barked out, tightening his hold on his rifle. His finger twitched, minutely. "Hands up!" His vocalizer was deep, barking his words out in harsh, guttural spats.

Prowl froze, taking in the twitch of Sideswipe's finger. His hands slowly rose up in front of his chestplates. "You don't want to do this, Sideswipe."

"I'm not letting you separate us, Prowl. You're not taking Sunstreaker from me. Or taking our sparkling from us."

"Lower your rifle, Sideswipe," Prowl repeated, equally harsh. "I will not speak with an Autobot pointing a weapon at me."

"We're leaving." Sideswipe motioned for Sunstreaker to grab the kits bags, shoved full of energon cubes, from his berth surface. Sunstreaker's pulse rifle and their extra laser cartridges were piled next to the bags, along with as many spare munitions as Sideswipe could grab from the stores. "We're leaving the _Ark_. Just let us go." Sideswipe swallowed. "Let us go."

Prowl shook his helm. "We can't do that, Sideswipe." His optics traced Sunstreaker's quick movements. "What you've done is bigger than just the two of you-"

Sideswipe cut Prowl off quickly. "Just let us go!" he shouted as he started to tremble. "There is _nothing_ I won't do to keep us together, Prowl…" Sideswipe's fingers gripped down on his rifle. "_Nothing_…" Sideswipe held his SIC's stare for a long, hard moment. His rifle was fully charged, and the faint, tell-tale hum that whispered through the silent cabin belied the deadly setting it was primed to.

Prowl held his cold gaze before he stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Sideswipe. Sideswipe's optics flashed white-hot as his fingers seized around his rifle's frame. "Prowl!" Sideswipe barked. "Don't!"

"You don't want to do this, Sideswipe," Prowl said again, softer. "I've served with you for a long time. You _don't_ want to do this."

Sideswipe's lips parted briefly as his trembles increased. His breaths came in harsh pants before he whispered, "Yes… I do…" His hands once again clenched his rifle housing as he grimaced. "I do!"

"Do you?" Prowl's optics burned into Sideswipe's.

"You don't know _anything_…" Sideswipe's optics flicked briefly over to Sunstreaker, standing off to the side and staring at their tense standoff.

That was all Prowl needed. His hands shot out, snaking around the barrel of the pulse rifle as he jerked. His sudden movement startled Sideswipe, and he reflexively squeezed down on the trigger. Prowl shoved the rifle's barrel upwards, sending the shot wild before he pushed backwards, hard, and knocked the stock against Sideswipe's shoulder and neck. Sideswipe staggered, knocked of balance as his hands shot out, letting go of his rifle as Prowl ripped it viciously from his grasp.

Sunstreaker reacted instantly, raising his own rifle to Prowl. Sideswipe stumbled backwards, his optics wide and white-hot with shock as Prowl stared at Sunstreaker, holding Sideswipe's rifle down at his side.

"No…" Sideswipe whispered desperately as he moved in between Sunstreaker and Prowl. Sunstreaker shifted, raising his rifle above Sideswipe's shoulder as both twins faced off against their comrade, against their SIC, against Prowl.

Prowl's gaze hardened. "Drop it, Sunstreaker," he barked. "I'll never raise my weapon to an Autobot. I won't speak with one who does so to me."

"Please…" Sideswipe whispered, his emotions flashing between panic and fear, and his words switching from pleas to raging whispers. "Please… just let us leave! We won't bother you!" His hand stretched backward, reaching for Sunstreaker's hip. "Just let us go…"

Prowl stepped forward, still staring down Sunstreaker with his attention fixed on the fully charged rifle pointing directly at his chestplates. "Where will you go? The Decepticons are out there, and they have proven that not only do they know about your condition, Sunstreaker, they are actively seeking to turn it to their advantage. How do you plan on taking care of yourself on your own? With no support structure?" Prowl stepped forward again, and both twins visibly tensed as he drew closer. Sideswipe's fists curled as his optics surged, pleading with Prowl to stop his advance before he was forced to act.

Prowl continued. "How do you plan on energizing yourselves and your sparkling for the rest of your lives? You will have three tanks to fill. No matter how much energon you have stolen, Sideswipe, you cannot account for the totality of your lifespan. We do not even have that much energon manufactured now." Prowl stepped closer again, step by slow step.

Sunstreaker grimaced. He swallowed as he gripped down on his rifle, and his hands started to tremble with the tensions coursing through his lines, restraining himself just barely from firing on his commanding officer.

"Neither of your nourishment lines are online. You cannot as of yet sustain your sparkling's energon and nutritional needs when he comes. How do you expect to do so on your own, away from medical care, and on the run from both the Decepticons and us? How do you expect to go through emergence on your own? How do you plan on raising your sparkling, on the run and in hiding? You are making the _wrong_ decisions for your sparkling." Prowl stepped one step closer, closing the distance between himself and the twins.

Sunstreaker's rifle pointed directly at Prowl's face, though the barrel end trembled.

"No one is going anywhere," Prowl finally said.

"No!" Sideswipe lunged, trying to strike at Prowl without finesse or strategy. He swung his arm wide, trying to smash his fist into Prowl's helm as he dove forward.

Prowl easily ducked the wild swing, then rammed his shoulder into Sideswipe's stomach. He dove forward, driving Sideswipe backwards and over his shoulder as his doorwings flattened against his back. Sideswipe still scraped their surfaces as he fell down his backside, inelegantly collapsing in a heap on the decking. Prowl whirled, dropping to his knee as his hands circled around Sideswipe's neck and pressed down, choking his air intakes slightly and halting the twin's struggles. Sideswipe's hands flew to Prowl's wrist, trying to break his firm, but not lethal, hold on his neck.

Sunstreaker shifted, once again pointing his rifle at Prowl's helm. "Let him go!" Sunstreaker barked. His trembles had transferred to his entire body. He was still too weak for this, and his exhausted, still-healing body was protesting this surge of energy and action. "Let him go, Prowl!"

"Drop it, Sunstreaker," Prowl ordered. "You're _not_ going anywhere."

Finally, Sunstreaker grunted and lowered his rifle, Prowl's earlier words echoing in his processor.

"No…" Sideswipe whimpered, as he fought again for freedom under Prowl's grasp. His face contorted in agony as he watched Sunstreaker lower his rifle, and in that action, ended their attempt to flee and escape. Sideswipe gasped as all of his high-strung anticipation transferred instantly to pain and agony, seating itself around his spark. "No…" he whispered once more, his vocalizer thin and weak.

Prowl turned back to Sideswipe, still pinned against the decking. He sighed as he gazed down at the red twin. Sideswipe's raging optics stared at him, pleading and overflowing with too much emotion. Prowl shook his helm. "You two don't do _anything_ by half measures, do you?" He lifted his hands from Sideswipe's neck. "Can we finally talk about what's been done?"

Sideswipe's optics left Prowl's gaze and drifted to his brother's. Sunstreaker was standing behind Prowl, his expression stony and unreadable, his body sagging in exhaustion. Their optics fixed onto each other, too sad and confused to read anything into each other's gaze.

Prowl straightened, then glanced between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. "Sit down," he ordered. He exhaled, pressing his lips together in a firm line. "Sit down before you fall down, Sunstreaker," he repeated, his voice softer. Sunstreaker cast him a vicious sidelong glare as he trudged over to their couch.

Sideswipe slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, then sat slumped forward for several long seconds. Defeat poured from his body, coursing through his entire being.

"Sideswipe," Prowl said sharply. "Up." His hand stretched downward, reaching to offer the red twin help to stand. Sideswipe's helm twisted upward, and their gazes locked for a brief moment. Sideswipe nodded grimly as he allowed Prowl to help him to his feet. He could only meet Sunstreaker's gaze once as he made his way over to collapse next to his brother.

"I'm sorry…" Sideswipe murmured as he stared at their decking. He was entirely surprised and not at all expecting Sunstreaker's hand to slide over and grip his own, winding their fingers together. He squeezed back, desperate to never let go.

Prowl stood before the twins seated on the couch. He peered downward at the two, each a study in raging, surging emotions. Sideswipe sat slumped, defeated and utterly devastated, failure oozing from every cable and joint. Sunstreaker stared back at Prowl, his own body stiff and tense and vibrating with repressed rage and bitter pride. His chin jutted forward as he glared defiantly at Prowl once more, his optics burning with emotion and angry, bitter confrontation. Their fingers squeezed tight together, refusing to let go. Every fiber optic of their being screamed their intimate connection.

Prowl shook his helm. How could he have not seen this before? It was all so, so obvious now. He exhaled again, long and slow, before speaking. "I am not entirely sure where to begin. The enormity of your actions, and the consequences, are… outstanding." Sunstreaker's glare hardened at Prowl's words as Sideswipe flinched, his helm still downcast. Prowl crossed his arms. "How long has this been going on?" There was no mistaking what he meant.

Sideswipe swallowed before speaking. "A… long time."

"Since before you both joined the Autobots?"

Sideswipe nodded, then finally looked up and met Prowl's hard gaze. Prowl pressed forwards. "How old were you both when this first happened?"

Sunstreaker frowned at Prowl's question as Sideswipe's optics flickered. Neither had been prepared for that question. Sideswipe breathed before he answered. "About a year past our majority… We had been out of the group homes for about half a year." He glanced briefly over at Sunstreaker for confirmation. Sunstreaker nodded. Their hands stayed wound together.

Prowl frowned, canting his helm at their words. He had never known the twins had lived in the orphan homes, the group homes back on Cybertron for abandoned mechlets. "And was this what you both wanted?" Prowl's words were firm.

Both twins frowned at Prowl's question. Prowl spoke again. "Did you both desire what happened equally? Was this," Prowl motioned with his hand in between the two brothers, signifying everything between them in the nothingness of the air. "Entirely consensual?" Prowl's doorwings perked slightly, canting forward as his optics fixed on the brothers. His processor focused on their reactions, trying to read in between the words they were about to speak in response, and seeking the emotional truth behind their actions.

Sideswipe recoiled in horror at Prowl's question. His face twisted in shock, his mouth dropping open with a sharp gasp as his optics surged. His first, instant thought was to deny Prowl's question, to proclaim that _of course_ it had been consensual, of course it had been desired by them both. His life-long fear and paralyzing terror lanced his spark an astrosecond later. Sideswipe whipped his helm sideways, staring at his brother. Sunstreaker met his fear-filled gaze hesitantly, his own bitter worries eating away within him. Prowl watched it all, silent.

"Sunny…" Sideswipe searched his brother's optics. "I... never wanted to hurt you…"

Sunstreaker shook his helm, trying to choke his words past his too-tight throat. "You didn't," he finally spat out. "Not when we were together. I… wanted that." Sunstreaker paused, still fumbling with his words. This was never easy for him. "Us. I wanted _us._"

Sideswipe stared into Sunstreaker's optics until Sunstreaker shifted and looked away. Sparkbreak and agony poured from Sideswipe's gaze as his spark stilled, then seemed to shatter. He had never, not once, heard his brother speak his desires or tell Sideswipe that he was wanted. Time and consequence seemed to stop entirely as Sideswipe was faced with all of his 'would have's' and 'should have's' in a single instant.

Prowl interrupted Sideswipe's tumbling thoughts. "I had to ask."

Prowl had been on board for nearly a week. He had returned as soon as Red Alert had comm'd him with the strange and out-of-the-blue news of Sunstreaker's sparkling, his capture by the Seekers, and the ill-timed revelation of the twins' relationship. He had been almost waiting for something to unfold, in the back recesses of his processor, ever since the first hint of trouble between the twins. Sunstreaker's mysterious medical condition was now finally revealed. _It couldn't have been worse_, Prowl had thought as he raced back.

He had arrived after Sunstreaker had been recovered in Jazz's daring and seat-of-his-aft rescue mission. Prowl drove at full speed onto the _Ark_ in the dead of night, and the first mech he had run into was Jazz himself, waiting at the entrance. "I was wondering when you'd arrive," Jazz had said softly with a sad smile.

Sideswipe stayed ensconced with Sunstreaker as he recovered in the medbay for the next week, and Prowl began attempting to unravel the twisted web of lies, deceit, and forbidden love that had ensnared the entire _Ark_. As he processed the newly revealed information and cast it against the entirety of his knowledge and history with the twins, Prowl, Jazz, Ratchet, and even Prime had come to the uncomfortable realization that they all had been had. Prowl had known, even before he had asked, that the length of their relationship had stretched back immemorial. It made him, made them all, feel especially foolish when it all had been laid bare. This had been happening before their faceplates, and no one had known. No one had even suspected.

Now though… everything was different. Prowl had spent days locked in heated conversations with Prime, Jazz, and Ratchet regarding the twins. Ratchet had loud and firm beliefs about the twins' relationship, and he wasted no amount of angry ventilations or vocalizer volume in expressing his views. Jazz was trying to run damage control with the crew, though everyone was still vacillating between stunned shock and furious betrayal.

Prime was filled with spark-deep sadness. He was sad for the twins, sad for their sparkling, sad for all the lies and the pain and the twisted decisions that had to have been made throughout the past. Hurting for the crew and for their family that now had to bear out this revelation.

Despite all their feelings, though, the ramifications and consequences still had to bear out.

Prowl sighed again as he shook his helm. Both brothers turned to stare up at him once more, twin looks of pain and confusion. "You two have broken one of our oldest laws and a shared taboo across not only cultures, but species. Incest goes against the evolutionary imperative of all species that produce and nurture progeny."

Sideswipe swallowed as Sunstreaker's faceplates twitched. There was no answer or denial to Prowl's statement. It simply was. They couldn't will away their love for one another, and in Sideswipe's case, all attempts at forcing Sunstreaker out of his spark and processor had ended in ever worse feelings and actions.

Prowl continued speaking, trying to convey as succinctly as he could the week-long emotional knock-down, drag-out battle he, Jazz, and Prime had all undergone. Somehow, in between his prepared, logical script for this confrontation and his scuffle with both twins, the passion and heightened emotions of their situation were exploding outwards once more.

"Some believe that this is a victimless crime. That your actions don't affect anyone else. Unfortunately, we've seen just how _wrong_ this assumption is." The entire _Ark_ was turned on its end. Sideswipe had left a trail of devastation and confusion in his loveless wake of failed relationships in his run from Sunstreaker. Smokescreen was still wavering between inconsolable emotions of rage and betrayed hurt and apathetic silence. He had never before felt so used, and more than once in his tirades, Sideswipe was cursed as emotionally equivalent to a Decepticon or as sparkless as Megatron himself.

"You have lied to _everyone_. You have betrayed close friends, comrades, officers, confidantes, and lovers." Prowl fixed his gaze on Sideswipe, who shifted uncomfortably as Sunstreaker grimaced. "What you have done is not only illegal, but hurtful to everyone. And now, you have brought to life a sparkling, who never asked for these problems." Prowl paused, his own emotions getting the best of him for a moment. "Did you ever think about what you were doing?"

Sideswipe had rapidly come apart listening to Prowl's litany and recitation of his failures. His life was crystallizing around him, and all he saw, everywhere he looked, was failure and shame. He had done _nothing,_ nothing at all worth anything, and all he'd ever been was a shameful let-down. His body began to tremble, shaking from his feet to his helm, and he clamped down hard on Sunstreaker's hand, still clenched tightly in his own. A single sob burst from his vocalizer as he gasped for breath and for control. "Do you think I want this?" He finally choked out, in between his pained gasps. "Do you think I _want_ to be in love with my brother? My twin brother?"

Sunstreaker twisted around, staring as Sideswipe continued to speak. "I have _tried_ to be _different_ and to _not_ feel this way. I've _tried_ to love another mech. I've _tried_ to bury these feelings. I _can't stop_ these feelings." Sideswipe sobbed, inhaling as he tried to control his surging emotions. Any moment now, he'd shatter to pieces. "I _love_ Sunstreaker. I am _in_ love with him."

Sideswipe clasped his other hand around their entwined fingers as he turned his helm to meet Sunstreaker's pained, silent gaze. "He's everything to me," Sideswipe whispered. "He's the beat of my spark. He's the voice in my helm. He's the magnet for the best of me. I want to be the best mech I can be, for him, and because of him…" Sideswipe trailed off as another sob choked his vocalizer. Sunstreaker held his stare, his own faceplates frozen in shock.

"I know," Prowl said softly.

Both twins turned to stare at Prowl. "I know." His lips quirked upwards, once. "It's almost as if the final piece of the puzzle has fallen into place. I feel like I can finally understand you two. Why you act the way you do. How you make your choices. It's the final piece of missing data."

Despite himself, Sideswipe chuckled once. "Always the tactician, aren't you Prowl?" Sideswipe swallowed. "What now?" he whispered. "What's going to happen to us?"

Prowl was silent for a long moment. "Do you understand what you have done?" he finally asked, still speaking in his soft, so-often-unheard tone. Both twins stared at him, Sunstreaker still in his sullen, bitter glare and Sideswipe about to fall apart at the seams. "When we coded the first laws in the Ancient Age, the ban on incestuous relations was both a cultural and evolutionary norm made official and a legal protection for familial mechs. You two are… unique." Prowl paused and inhaled.

"The majority of incestuous relationships that occur are abusive. One mech takes advantage of the other. A parent abuses a mechling. There are few relationships where family members truly fall in love with one another. I had to ask you both that question earlier." Prowl shook his helm.

"So here we have an unusual situation, in which two mature mechs, twins, fell in love with one another. There is no evidence of abuse, and it is a consensual relationship. Leaving aside for the moment the immense hurt and betrayal you both have laid in your path here and over the years, what is wrong about this situation?" Prowl didn't expect either twin to answer him. Silence stretched out long in the cabin.

"Your sparkling," Prowl said, quietly but firmly answering his own question. "I… highly doubt that this was a planned sparking…" Prowl's words trailed off as Sunstreaker shook his helm in time with Sideswipe, twin helms bobbing and shaking with twin expressions of grim acceptance. "The other aspect of this coded law supports our evolutionary heritage and protects the integrity of our species. It is the same basis for all reproducing species, even here on Earth. We, much like humans and all higher forms of life, reproduce by means of individuals sharing their differentiated spark-code with another to create a new life. If incestuous relationships were to happen freely, with impunity, and these unions produced progeny, our spark-code as a species would degenerate. It is the depth and uniqueness of our code that sustains the breadth of our species over time. Similar spark-code merges lessens the availability of divergent sparks and code. The strengths and adaptations we have evolved into can weaken."

Sunstreaker's lips were pressed into a hard line as he stared Prowl down. "You're saying our sparkling is going to be weak? Or broken?"

Prowl shook his helm. "No, not specifically. Your sparkling could have deviations, but it's no more likely than any other sparking. The danger is if the species were to engage in incestuous reproduction for generations."

Sideswipe exhaled a great rush of air, a huge breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Prowl's entire recitation had filled his helm with horrible visions of a damaged, broken sparkling, their creation turned disfigured and pained. Gear-stopping panic poured through his systems. Sideswipe leaned forward, bracing his helm in his free hand. Consequences and darkness continued to flood his processor. He had never wanted to destabilize their entire species or jeopardize the evolutionary future of the only Cybertronians remaining in the universe. There truly was nothing he could do right in his life. Every action, every single action he'd ever taken just made things ever more worse. Sideswipe was teetering on a dangerous emotional precipice, and he was astroseconds away from desperately wishing for everything to just end. Or for him to disappear. He was the problem. Maybe he had to disappear.

Prowl continued, slowly. "And if we allow exceptions to this rule, where is the limit? What is an acceptable number of incestuous relationships? An acceptable number of incestuous offspring? Where is that line?" Prowl shook his helm. "There shouldn't be a line, or a sliding slope, not when the species as a whole, and its survival, is taken into consideration."

Sideswipe inhaled, still looking down. His helm slowly rose up, and his hand rested over his mouth, covering his trembling lips. He hated himself, so much, for everything he had done, and everything that had happened.

"What's going to happen to us?" Sunstreaker grunted, echoing Sideswipe's question of earlier. Sideswipe could no longer speak, as overcome with emotion as he was.

Prowl pursed his lips before pressing them into a thin line. He inhaled as his doorwings flickered. "Nothing," he said finally.

Sideswipe's helm shot up, his face twisting in shock. Sunstreaker remained still and impassive, though his optics surged, then narrowed at Prowl's words. "What?" Sideswipe whispered.

Prowl shook his helm. "Nothing. Nothing is going to happen to you two. Or you three." He waited for his words to sink in, watching the disbelief play over both twins' faces. Finally, he spoke again. "This, right here on the _Ark_, is the totality of our species at the moment." Prowl chose not to include the Decepticons in his tally of Cybertronians. "We already have a small and contained spark-code pool. There are only so many combinations we can provide when we start producing offspring. And we must start reproducing if we are to survive as a species."

Prowl, Jazz, Ratchet, and Prime had spent long, long hours discussing the totality of their future on Earth, and what the first sparkling, as unusual as its sparking circumstances were, meant for their species. Prowl had agreed, whole-sparked, with Ratchet on the importance of committing themselves as a whole to their future. That future included sparklings. Many of them. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's lies and betrayal hurt them all, deeply, but each of them understood _why_ they had lied. The whys and hows of their being in love with one another was a separate conversation, and a question that no mech could answer for them. Mechs fell in love for countless and innumerable reasons, and _their_ reasons were shrouded in their past.

Ultimately, the command staff was left with an uncomfortable choice: follow the law and punish the law-breakers. Separate them. Take over care of their sparkling, based on the parents being unfit for such duties.

Or… Not.

In a strange twist of irony, it was Prowl and Prime who argued for bending the law, while Ratchet cried havoc over Sideswipe's treatment of Sunstreaker. His temper had seized full control of his processor, and most of his contributions to their discussions were loud and angry tirades against Sideswipe and his emotional abuse of Sunstreaker.

"If your relationship was coerced, or one of you was abused, this would not be ending as it is now." Prowl's tone had regained that firm harshness, underlying the conviction behind his words. "However, since you both are mutually desirous of this relationship, and of your family, this is the end of the situation. No action will be taken against you or your sparkling. This is still not correct in an evolutionary sense, but then again, fighting a war that destroys your world and brings the totality of the species down to less than 100 mechs is not evolutionarily correct either. In a purely legalistic sense, the Decepticons and Megatron had seized control of the government on Cybertron, and Prime and the Autobots were outlawed and declared non-citizens. We fought against the totality of the government of Cybertron, and that includes the governmental Codes of Law. The Autobot Martial Codes of Law have no sections on interfacing or reproduction." It was chiefly this argument, along with the absolute need for sparklings for their future that finally ended their conversations. Prowl needed to ensure that the _why_ of the command staff's actions were able to be explained beyond the emotional knee-jerk reaction of just 'liking' the twins. The _Ark_ could be torn apart internally if the twins were granted special privileges and consideration, especially in the face of so much hurt.

Sideswipe stared at Prowl, open-mouthed. His optics were too bright, pulsing with too much emotion. His breath came in shaking, heaving gasps as he struggled to conceptualize this new world, a new world that allowed the possibility of him and Sunstreaker to be together. "You fragger…" he whispered, his vocalizer shaking. Prowl's optics surged as his optic ridges rocketed upwards. "You rule-loving, law-perfecting fragger…" Sideswipe gasped again as a small, relieved laugh forced its way out of his vocalizer. "You are the _last_ mech I thought that would…"

Prowl shook his helm, a tiny, sad smile stretched across his faceplates.

Sideswipe smiled back at him, though it was thin and holding back a sob. "You're saying… we can… be together?"

Prowl's optics were watching Sunstreaker. The golden twin was breathing hard, deeply, and his own optics were overbright and unfocused in shock. Prowl could see his jaw clenched tight, waiting for Prowl's answer. "It's all wrong, and you will have consequences for this. But… they're not going to be disciplinary." Prowl exhaled as both twins absorbed his words. Sideswipe gasped audibly, his vocalizer finally cracking and surging with his emotional input. Sunstreaker inhaled as his optics offlined and his face scrunched up tightly. He looked seconds away from sobbing. Prowl had never seen him display so much emotion.

Prowl paused, debating his next sentence briefly. "You will most likely suffer enough through the consequences of your actions and the ramifications on your friendships and relationships." Prowl couldn't miss the instantaneous and fierce tension that coiled through Sunstreaker's body, lancing him to a taut, anxious grimace. Sideswipe flinched at Prowl's words, then again at Sunstreaker's reaction. His optics slid sideways, gazing mournfully over Sunstreaker's form. Sunstreaker wouldn't meet his gaze. Prowl spoke again. "The repercussions will be chiefly social. It will take a very long time for anyone to trust either of you again. Some… will never trust you again. Or associate with you."

"What you did to Smokescreen, Sideswipe, was unforgivable," Prowl said softly. Jazz had pieced together the totality of the situation from Bluestreak, Hound, and Mirage, in between his brief chats with Smokescreen himself. Nearly everyone but Smokescreen understood what had happened; Smokescreen was still struggling with the intensely personal and emotional nature of Sideswipe's actions. After all, everyone else could know what had happened, but it was he who had to endure it.

"I can only imagine the work you two need to do on your own relationship," Prowl added, his voice almost a whisper.

Sideswipe nodded slowly as he stared downward once more, no longer looking at his brother. Sunstreaker shifted again, moving away from his brother's body on the couch, though continuing to cling tight to his hand. Neither brother could look at each other.

"Outside of these quarters, very, very few will understand. Even fewer will accept. To most mechs, and to our human allies, what you are doing is irrevocably wrong." Prowl exhaled, letting his own exhaustion, both physical and mental, pass through his system. "I do not envy you your position. It is going to be a long, lonely road that you two have chosen to drive. This was _your_ choice, and now you must live with the repercussions. However… your sparkling will be the first of our new generation." Prowl smiled softly. "And to that, I have to say, congratulations."

Sideswipe smiled faintly at Prowl's last words. His gaze turned to Sunstreaker as he chewed briefly on his lip. He swallowed. "We're not alone. Not as long as we have each other."

Sunstreaker finally turned and looked back at his brother. To Prowl, his optics were as unreadable as ever, but to Sideswipe, each of his sullen, silent gazes spoke a myriad of words and emotions. Sideswipe smiled, a thin, wavering smile at his brother as Sunstreaker searched his optics.

Sunstreaker's processor played out the scene of Sideswipe smiling softly as he leaned down and captured Smokescreen's lipplates in a gentle kiss in the middle of the cheering Rec Room. He swallowed, trying to push against the memory, but failed.

He still felt very much alone.

Slowly, Sunstreaker pulled his fingers from Sideswipe's grasp. His face twisted as he shifted away from his brother. He couldn't look at him anymore, and he missed the absolutely spark-broken expression that settled over Sideswipe's faceplates.

Prowl suddenly felt immensely uncomfortable. He had just become deeply entwined in the Lambo twins' lives, but he wasn't entirely prepared for their relationship problems. "Sideswipe," he said, redirecting Sideswipe's broken faceplates and attention. "You are on duty again starting tomorrow. Report to Comms for the day shift." Prowl shifted his attention to Sunstreaker as Sideswipe stared at him. "Sunstreaker, Ratchet wants to evaluate you again tomorrow before he'll clear you for half duty. He says to take another ration tonight, and then starting tomorrow you'll be taking three rations a day."

Prowl glanced over at Sideswipe's berth and at the spilled kit bags with all of his stolen energon. "I think you now have enough energon in your quarters to get you both through your needs," he said dryly before continuing. "Keep it here. You'll be able to avoid the Rec Room, which… is going to be a good thing."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both nodded slowly. No one said anything, and silence stretched throughout their quarters.

Finally, Prowl spoke again. "You both are still Autobots. Prime and I still believe in you and believe that you are valuable here, as part of this crew." Sideswipe tried to smile up at Prowl, but failed miserably. Prowl nodded to both twins. "I will see you both tomorrow." He briefly made optic contact with each of them, then turned on his heel and strode out of their quarters. His doorwings flared wide, barely skirting the edges of their doorframe.

The soft whoosh was unbearably loud in the silent, stifling quarters. Sunstreaker continued to press himself into the far side of the couch, physically keeping as much distance as he could from Sideswipe. Sideswipe remained frozen in the center. His optics dimmed as he bit his trembling lower lip, and he stared downward at the decking with his hands clenched into pained fists.

Sunstreaker finally grunted and started to rise. Sideswipe's helm shot up, staring at his brother. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I need my ration," Sunstreaker said, exhaustion still wracking his frame.

"I'll get it." Sideswipe stood, beating Sunstreaker to his feet. "Sit down, Sunny. I'll get it. You should rest."

Sunstreaker stared at Sideswipe, and their optics finally met. Sideswipe turned away and hurried to fetch his brother a cube and one of the last remaining ore additives. His hands shook as he prepared the simple mixture, and he heard Sunstreaker settle back down into their couch with a sigh.

Sunstreaker accepted the cube from his brother without looking into Sideswipe's optics. Their tense, strangled silence returned full-force.

Sideswipe slowly stepped back from the couch. "Now what, Sunstreaker?" His vocalizer was only a shaking whisper. Sunstreaker slowly lowered his cube. His hands clenched round the edges, rolling and squeezing its frame in his grip.

Sunstreaker swallowed and shook his helm slowly. His lips pressed themselves into a thin, painful line. "It hurts too much." His own vocalizer was bitterly hard and filled with agony.

"I thought you said you wanted this… wanted _us_…" Sideswipe tried to clamp back on his surging emotions.

"I did." Sunstreaker's gruff vocalizer was pitched too softly. "I did."

"But now…" Sideswipe trailed off as his optics surged white-bright.

Sunstreaker finally turned and look at his brother. His waves of pain, his feelings of agony, his immeasurable hurt that coiled around his spark shifted, then hardened into anger. What did Sideswipe expect? After all this time, and after everything that had happened… did he truly expect Sunstreaker to fall helm over heels into his arms? Did he expect to have his way? Expect Sunstreaker back in his berth? Was this how Sideswipe operated, how he thought? Was this his world, one of expectation and getting his way?

Sunstreaker's faceplates twisted as his anger fully settled deep within. He was done feeling hurt at his brother's expense. "What do you expect?" Sunstreaker spat. His optics narrowed as his vents pushed faster. "After everything!"

Sideswipe's fear broke loose and surged full force into his spark and processor. "I don't know, Sunny. I don't expect anything… I just don't know what to do…" Sideswipe slowly chewed on his lower lip.

Something finally snapped inside Sunstreaker. He stood quickly, optics flashing, and spoke in his coldest, harshest tone. "You told me you _loved_ me," he hissed.

"I do!"

"You're a fragging liar!"

"I love you, Sunny. I always have…" Sideswipe dragged in a shaking breath.

"Words mean nothing, Sideswipe. You fragged everyone we met, right in front of me. You used me when you wanted me. You never _cared_." Sunstreaker's cold, bitter words cut out as his emotions cracked through his furious, stony faceplates. "You ripped my spark out!"

Sideswipe's processor ground to a halt. "You never _said_ anything!" Sideswipe cried out. "You never _told_ me anything!"

"I had to tell you not to frag other mechs?" Sunstreaker's cold tone was incredulous.

"I thought you didn't care about me!" Sideswipe choked back a sob, caught between agony and rage. How dare Sunstreaker tell him he never loved him. His _entire_ life had been devoted to Sunstreaker. It wasn't possible to love another more than he loved his brother. "You never told me you did!"

"Didn't care?" Sunstreaker's vocalizer dropped to an icy hiss. "I gave you everything of me."

"I gave you everything too!"

"And then you gave it to everyone else!" Sunstreaker's vocalizer crackled beneath his shout. He inhaled, staring into Sideswipe's optics as his angry scowl melted to pain. "I've never been with another mech, Sideswipe… It's always just been you." Sunstreaker swallowed, trying to regain some semblance of control. It was all coming out now, a lifetime's worth of rage, bitter helplessness and agony. "Why couldn't you feel the same?"

Sideswipe finally broke. He collapsed, falling to his knees as sobs wracked his body. He buried his faceplates in his hands, rocking forward on his knees.

Sunstreaker watched, frozen to the spot. They were each buried in their own agony, and each responsible for each other's. The gulf still yawned wide between them.

"Sunstreaker," Sideswipe finally tried to say, still shaking. "You don't believe me, but I do love you. I always have. You are the very center of my entire world."

Sunstreaker glanced away, not able to stand any more of Sideswipe's empty promises any longer.

"I thought… I thought you didn't love me like I loved you. I thought I was… forcing you. I'm broken. These feelings I have for you, they're not _right_. I'm not right. I wanted to protect you from me…" Sideswipe shook his helm, drawing in a ragged breath. "I just didn't want to hurt you…"

Sunstreaker stared into Sideswipe's gaze. His optics were dim, drained of feeling and light. "I kissed you, Sideswipe. You didn't force me to do that. I… wanted to." His vocalizer was flat, emotionally exhausted. Sunstreaker remembered their first kiss, the first kiss that changed everything.

"Why didn't you _say_ anything?" Sideswipe whispered, staring into his brother's optics. "Why didn't you _tell_ me how you felt?"

Sunstreaker held Sideswipe's gaze for a long, silent moment. The memories played over in his processor, just as painful and agonizing now as it was all those vorns ago. "I tried," Sunstreaker grunted. "You weren't there."

It was too much, the pain, the confusion, and Sideswipe couldn't work his way through the agony. "Why didn't you say anything after?" His tortured optics gazed up at his brother.

Sunstreaker shook his helm, growling under his breath. "You want me to talk, Sideswipe, and _tell_ you everything I am feeling. I don't even know what I am feeling! I didn't know what we were doing, and I didn't know what to feel or what to think. I'm not like you. I can't just smile and have everything be alright… I can't just _talk._"

Sunstreaker turned back to his brother. It was all coming out now, and he didn't know who inside of him was forcing out all these words. He never spoke this much, not ever. Somehow though, the cathartic release of his lifetime of bitter pain and longing was forcing him to seek the answers he had spent such countless recharge-less nights over.

"Everything I did, I did for you," Sideswipe said with conviction. "I thought you _didn't want_ me, Sunny. I was trying to relieve you of my burden. My disgusting feelings for you. I was trying to force myself to get over you." Sideswipe shook his helm. "It never worked."

"You were wrong…. About everything." Sunstreaker forced his words out, exhausted and drained from their argument. Once, Sideswipe had understood him so well. How had that gone so wrong?

Sideswipe nodded. "I know. And if I could, Primus, I'd take it all back. I'd take everything back. Everything. All I ever wanted was to be with you. To make you happy. To care for you. To… make all your dreams come true." Sideswipe shook as static bubbled up from within his vocalizer. As ridiculous as it sounded, it was true. "You always had dreams of something better, Sunny. You got us out of the group homes. You were the one who set up our life in our studio. You were the one who saved us both after…" Sideswipe trialed off, not mentioning the horrible memories that still stung from the devastation of their city. "My whole life is devoted to you."

Sunstreaker stared into his brother's optics. Could he believe this? Could they do this? Where was the truth?

Sideswipe kept speaking, his spark finally pulsing freely and running wild. Now that they had finally started talking, everything was flowing out. "Sunstreaker… Let's make this work. I love you. I'm not going anywhere. Let me prove this to you." He held his brother's gaze.

Slowly, Sunstreaker shook his helm. Everything was happening too fast, and his pain was still burning within him. A lifetime of being tossed aside in favor of others was cast against Sideswipe's pleas for forgiveness and understanding. This was too much, too much of a sea change, and his spark couldn't keep up. He didn't know, not anymore, what he wanted. What he needed.

"Sunstreaker…" Sideswipe whispered, his optics pleading. He swallowed, then started to crawl on his knees toward his brother. "I want to prove this to you. I _need_ to prove this to you." He stopped just in front of his brother. Sunstreaker stared down at him. This close, Sideswipe could see his brother's trembling across his entire frame. "I don't want to live without you. Or our sparkling. I can't. Please…" He couldn't touch his brother. Touch was off limits. Still, he raised his hands, holding them up in front of Sunstreaker's body. He was also shaking, he noticed; his hands vibrated in front of his faceplates. "Please… let me prove my love to you. Give us a chance to fall in love again. _Please…_" Sideswipe held his brother's gaze, his optics burning with the force of his shameless plea.

Silence filled their quarters. Sunstreaker stared down, holding his brother's gaze. The entirety of their lives was wrapped up in this one moment. Sunstreaker's dreams, his fantasies, his hopes for a happy, simple life with Sideswipe could possibly come true, could possibly exist in reality.

None of his fantasies involved their history of pain though. None of his fantasies were based in their reality. His dreams were full of what if's and pretend history that could have been between them.

Could he let the past go? Could he let the pain go? Could he trust his brother again? And, as always, the question was: would Sideswipe stay? If he gave them another chance, would their world hold? If Sideswipe left, again, could Sunstreaker push forward, again? Did he even want to take the risk? Would this pain ever go away?

His sparkling, sedated within his body and relaxing in his tank, stirred and Sunstreaker felt a gentle flicker across his spark. He inhaled, bringing his hand up to his side and stroking over his side seam, the closest access point to his protoform and the closest point to his sparkling within. What would happen to their sparkling? Sideswipe said he wanted to be there, with them, as a family. He'd never before said anything about sparklings, and Sunstreaker had never thought that either of them would ever have one. Now, they were having one _together_. It was an accident, a crazy accident that was now reality, but was it what Sideswipe really wanted? Would he truly stay, through all of it?

Sunstreaker stared into his brother's optics.

Sideswipe held his gaze, trembling and waiting for Sunstreaker's answer. His processor was screaming, begging and pleading and thrashing in the silence of his mind. There was nothing more he could say. Everything was in his brother's hands, and his brother's spark. He had ruined everything in the past. Sunstreaker had to make the choice for their future. He'd do anything, anything Sunstreaker wanted. Anything he needed. He just hoped that Sunstreaker still wanted him.

Sunstreaker inhaled before he spoke. "I… want to… love you again." He held his breath, waiting for Sideswipe's reaction. Once, he had been in love with Sideswipe. Betrayal and pain had twisted that around, and he almost didn't know what it had been like anymore. Still… he wanted to feel that again. There was something there, something that was chronically missing from his life. He and Sideswipe were supposed to be together, two halves to a whole. If there was a chance to live in that happiness, that fullness again, Sunstreaker wanted to take it.

Sideswipe's optics surged, powering overbright. His spark exploded, shattering with brilliant emotion and overwhelming relief. His love for Sunstreaker followed, burning out from its closed and hidden spaces, tucked away in the back of his spark. Sideswipe gasped, rocking under the surge of freedom for his feelings, the immense power of his love, and the responsibility he was now laid with. Sunstreaker was giving him a second chance. He had to be worth it. He had to be worth Sunstreaker's trust and love.

Sideswipe's trembles transformed to full body shakes, enveloping him. He collapsed, falling from his kneel to press his helm into the decking, this time at Sunstreaker's feet. Sobs wracked his body, pouring from his spark and vocalizer. "I promise Sunny…" Sideswipe gasped out, in between sobs. "You'll never hurt again. I swear." His helm rolled sideways, scraping against the decking, and he gazed upward into his brother's wary, agonized optics. "I _swear_."

* * *

Jazz braced himself against the Teletraan console. The _Ark _and their perimeter were swarming with media, law enforcement, and military personnel. Their little rescue mission had broken 5 international treaties, compromised the sovereign borders of two nations, and broken their own agreement with the United Nations signatory countries for their peaceful settlement on the planet. Both NORAD and the Russian missile defense systems had tried to target Skyfire on his sub-orbital rocket trip to and from the _Ark_. The only reason they weren't blasted out of the sky was that Skyfire was simply too fast for their systems.

Prime was ensconced in high-level meetings with the offended nations. Jazz wasn't quite sure what they were discussing, but he _was_ sure that the Presidents, Prime Ministers, Generals and various other human titles and officials were disgruntled after Prime put them on hold for almost a week as they worked through the internal _Ark_ situation first. Despite being stuck across the country, Prime had never wavered in his absolute conviction to working out their current situation.

The doors to the Command Deck slid open, and Jazz heard the tell-tale crisp footfalls of Prowl stride across the decking. He hung his helm briefly before turning and looking over his shoulder. "How'd it go?" His voice was soft, but it still carried across the nearly empty deck. Jazz had taken over comms, but Red Alert kept his ready post, his optics fixed on their perimeter vidfeeds.

Prowl drew next to Jazz and sighed, but didn't answer. His optics flicked over the displays, each showing a different section of their perimeter. "That is not going well." He motioned toward the central terminal screen, and the chaos displayed from their perimeter.

Jazz shook his helm. "Nope, its not."

"Could you have possibly broken less treaties?" Prowl twisted, staring at Jazz with a raised optic ridge.

Jazz tilted his helm and smiled. "I could have broken more."

Prowl chuckled as he turned back to the console. He frowned, leaning forward to peer at the display. Jazz ducked his helm. "Some of the reporters were getting a bit brave. Red Alert sent the Dinobots out to back up the Protectobots." Sure enough, Grimlock was strutting about in his alt mode, breathing fire and roaring at full volume. The rest of his team followed suit around him.

Prowl shook his helm and sank down into one of the terminal chairs. "We have done all we can do. The ramifications of all of this will now have to play out." Jazz nodded, slow.

"Oh, we got a message from the County Sheriff's. A Detective Steele wanted to send her well-wishes and ask if you planned on returning." Jazz grinned as he settled down next to Prowl. "Did someone make a lady friend?"

Prowl sighed as he arched his optic ridge at Jazz. "That was kind of her. I'll have to return her comm in the morning." He chose not to address Jazz's prod.

"You heading back?"

Prowl didn't answer right away. He stared down into his lap, his white fingers splayed over his thighs. His work with the humans had been stimulating and rewarding, and the successful completion of several unsolved cases had changed people's lives for the better in marked ways. There were verifiable results, positive results, from his mission.

And yet… Prowl had found himself still feeling listless, still feeling as if his day wasn't entirely complete. His processor drifted back to the _Ark_ more often than not, and he found himself wondering after the idle bits of gossip and social life that he had left behind. The _Ark_ had been his home, the Autobots his comrades, but it wasn't until he was away from them that Prowl actually began to consider them as necessary within his life.

This new situation cast in stark relief just how vital they all were to one another and how delicate their lives and futures truly were. Prowl couldn't imagine leaving, not now. Not anymore.

He inhaled again, then met Jazz's gaze. Jazz's visor was dim, an indication of his tiredness. No one on the _Ark_ had been recharging much over the past few days.

"I can't leave," Prowl said softly.

"This is home? This is family?" Jazz cocked his helm and watched as Prowl nodded.

Jazz leaned back in his chair and sighed. He turned his attention to the Teletraan terminal screens with Prowl, the both of them focusing on the tensions at their perimeter. "I understand exactly what you mean, Prowl." Jazz cast a small smile sideways at his fellow officer and SIC.

Prowl met his glance and smiled back.

* * *

Sunstreaker bolted upright, gasping as the panic from his nightmare flared, then evaporated. His processor screamed, replaying the flickering images and emotional echoes of his memory files and horrible dreams. He sighed, dimming his optics briefly before glancing around his dark quarters. Where was Sideswipe?

Sunstreaker was emotionally and physically exhausted after their argument, and it was all he could do to lie down and recharge. He wasn't totally in prime condition yet, and he could feel the stresses and anxieties of their day and life crashing in around him. Sunstreaker had lain down on his berth, and Sideswipe had followed, perching himself on the edge and sitting up, gazing down at him.

"You'll stay?" Sunstreaker needed to make certain.

Sideswipe nodded, his optics overpowered from his sobs and the surging emotions. "Always." His vocalizer was scratchy and static-filled, sounding harsh after his wails.

Sunstreaker nodded, shifted on his berth for a more comfortable position, and then suddenly dropped into recharge. His last memory was glancing at Sideswipe's hand, gripping the edge of his berth, and debating whether or not to reach for him.

Sunstreaker's optics swept the darkened cabin for a second time, then glanced at his brother's berth. It was still piled high with their discarded gear from their ill-planned escape attempt; kit bags, energon cubes and laser rifles were stacked in disarray.

Sideswipe was nowhere to be seen.

Sunstreaker's throat clenched before he heard a shuffling sound on the decking next to his berth. He twisted, looking down, and saw Sideswipe pushing himself into a sitting position. His brother's optics were scratchy with white lines of pain and energy, and when he spoke, his vocalizer was crackling and static-laced. Sideswipe had been sobbing still.

"Sunny?" Sideswipe choked out. "You alright?"

"What are you doing?"

Sideswipe smiled weakly. "Recharging." It was clear he was not. "I… didn't think you wanted me to be next to you up there. But…" Sideswipe briefly chewed on his lip. "I couldn't leave your side. I couldn't be away from you."

Sunstreaker stared down at his brother, lying on the decking next to his berth and attempting to recharge. His nightmare flickered through his processor once more, a dark life without Sideswipe, and a life with Sideswipe flaunting his love for other mechs. The emptiness of their quarters condensed around the two of them.

Sunstreaker scooted sideways on his berth. "Come here," he mumbled, reaching down for Sideswipe. His fingers tugged on Sideswipe's forearm, trying to pull him up. The touch lasted only an astrosecond but burned at his plating. Sideswipe scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily, and held Sunstreaker's gaze as he scooted himself onto Sunstreaker's berth surface.

It was awkward at first, trying to reach for each other and not, to share the berth space and not. Sideswipe kept himself at the very edge of the berth and on his side, staring at Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker pressed his back against the bulkhead, trying not to meet his brother's gaze.

Slowly, Sunstreaker's hand stretched out, reaching for Sideswipe. His fingers traced over his red chestplates, dragging slowly across the armored plating. They hadn't touched in so, so long. Sideswipe was shaking, trembling like a tree leaf beneath his touch.

Finally, Sideswipe broke. He curled in on himself, pushing his face into Sunstreaker's hand as he sobbed. Sunstreaker clenched his denta at the contact, grimacing and grunting. He couldn't _not_ be drawn to Sideswipe, and his spark was still yearning for the only mech he had ever loved in his life. It _hurt_ though, and while he wanted to be with Sideswipe again, his rage and agony were still so fresh within his spark.

Sideswipe's reality was still fractured, crushed and demolished, and only the scantest, faintest hope existed.

Still, their bodies slowly moved toward one another, pulled together by their shared grief and pain.

Sideswipe's shaking hands clung to Sunstreaker, pressing out along his chest as he buried his face into Sunstreaker's neck. Sunstreaker's hands reached for his arms, his helm, his back, trying to convince himself that Sideswipe was really there and that he was going to stay. His own sobs formed, and he curled his body around his brother's.

They clung to one another throughout the night, their sobs slowly ebbing as they both dropped into recharge, wrapped in each other's arms.

It would take a long, long while, and a concerted, diligent effort by both brothers, but maybe, just maybe, they could make a new future together as a family, one day at a time.

The rest of the _Ark,_ and the rest of the world however, was another matter entirely.


	11. Chapter 11

**Unintended Eleven**

* * *

Sideswipe's comm blared to life, shattering the stillness of the twins' quarters. "Sideswipe!" Ironhide's gruff, angry voice barked out. "Where the frag are you?"

Sideswipe onlined instantly, stiffening in shock. He was wrapped up in Sunstreaker's arms, his helm and faceplates buried in his brother's neck. Exhaustion screamed through Sideswipe's body.

Sunstreaker was blearily onlining, exhausted and confused as Sideswipe slowly extricated himself from his brother's arms.

Ironhide's voice barked out from Sideswipe's comm line again. "Sideswipe!"

"I'm coming, Ironhide. I'm on my way. I'm sorry…" Sideswipe trailed off as the comm line closed, frustrated with himself for forgetting to online in time for his shift and too exhausted still to care much for anything aside from Sunstreaker. He turned, gazing down at his brother.

"Hey," Sideswipe whispered, smiling wanly. His hands wound around his brother's, squeezing gently. "How do you feel?"

Sunstreaker frowned, staring into his brother's face. He was exhausted, spark-drainingly so, and he still felt numb from the physical and emotional exertions of yesterday. He was sluggish, operating in too-slow shapes and colors. He shook his helm.

"Let me make your cube." Sideswipe smiled before he stood and began to prepare Sunstreaker's ration and ores. Their mess from the day before and their frantic attempts to escape were still piled high on Sideswipe's berth. Sideswipe snagged a cube and tucked it inside his armor plating close to his engine. He revved his engine a few times, then let it idle at a high rev. After a few minutes, the energon was warmed to a comfortable taste. He quickly poured the last of their ore additives into the cube and sat back down on his brother's berth.

Sunstreaker watched the entire process with dim optics. He rolled to his side and accepted the cube as he softly grunted, "So that's how you warmed it every morning."

Sideswipe nodded and watched Sunstreaker sip. His hand stretched out, fingers gently stroking along his brother's shin and leg plating.

"Sideswipe!" Ironhide's voice barked through his commlink. "Yer 15 minutes late! Get yer aft up here for yer shift!"

"I'm coming!" Sideswipe stood quickly, meeting his brother's gaze. "I'm sorry I have to go…" His hands twisted together, fumbling in front of his body.

Sunstreaker shook his helm. "Go. You're late." His optics drifted back down to his cube, his expression pinched and exhausted.

"I'll be back right after my shift… I'll see you then?" Sunstreaker nodded silently. "Let me know how everything goes with Ratchet?" Again, Sunstreaker nodded, still not looking up. Sideswipe sighed, shifting on his feet. "I love you," he whispered.

Sunstreaker finally looked up. "Go," Sunstreaker grunted. "Before Ironhide gets angry."

Sideswipe shook his helm. Ironhide was always irritable and angry. "I'll see you later, Sunny." He debated with himself for a moment, but then ducked down and pressed a light, quick kiss to his brother's helm. He couldn't meet Sunstreaker's optics as he turned and walked away, but still, he turned back at the doorway and gazed at his brother. Sunstreaker was already falling back into recharge.

Sideswipe smiled, allowing a tiny tendril of hope in his spark to unfurl. They could _do_ this. They could.

His comm burst to life once more. "Sideswipe!"

* * *

Sideswipe was used to people staring at him. He was used to being the center of attention, after so many pranks and jokes and his history of goofing off. He was used to helms swiveling his way.

It was all so completely different, though, as he hurried onto the Command Deck. He hadn't seen anyone on the _Ark_, aside from Prowl and a little bit of Ratchet, since his emotional meltdown on the Command Deck itself. He'd been insulated with Sunstreaker and focused entirely on his family. He hadn't spared a single thought for anything else; not the _Ark_, not the crew, not anything.

Everything came pouring in around him now. Every helm on deck swiveled his way. The morning squad meetings were already underway in the rear of the deck, and Ironhide was holding court as he barked out the daily duties to each squad leader. Red Alert had turned into a permanent fixture at the monitors, especially now with the turmoil at their perimeter. Inferno was dropping off a cube for him, and just beyond, Cliffjumper stood impatient and irritable at the comms station. For a single, brief moment, silence swept across the deck as all optics fixated on Sideswipe's belated entrance, and the only sound heard was his quick, light footsteps as he tried to race across the deck and disappear at the same time.

"Sideswipe!" Ironhide bellowed out, intercepting Sideswipe's attempt to flee to his station unnoticed.

Sideswipe winced. Fragging ground never opened up beneath his feet when he needed it. "Yes, sir?" .

"Yer late again, yer goin' in the brig. There ain't any special treatment goin' on here." Ironhide paused, his words spat out. "Understood?"

Sideswipe nodded. "Yes, sir." He turned away, nearly running to his station as he felt every optic on the deck burn into his backplates.

Cliffjumper stared at him, his expression cold and flat. It had to be Cliffjumper, Sideswipe thought, his tanks sinking. It had to be him. "Status?" Sideswipe asked, not meeting his gaze. His optics wandered over the lit comms board and all of humming feeds and transmissions.

"Active," Cliffjumper replied, several seconds too late for normal. "Watch the perimeter. We've got a lot of activity out there."

"Why?" Sideswipe frowned, staring at the minibot.

Cliffjumper held his gaze, his optics slitting. "Because of _you_. Our little rescue mission for Sunstreaker has nearly cost us our alliance with the humans. They're rioting out there."

Sideswipe froze. Cliffjumper snorted at him, then pushed past his plating, scrapping too close when he could have spared the shove. Sideswipe sank down into the chair in front of the comms station. He swallowed, offlining his optics briefly as he took a deep breath. They could get through his. They could.

"Dismissed," Ironhide's bark rang out across the deck. Sideswipe heard the clatter of feet as the squad leaders turned and left, dispersing for their own briefings with their squads and their daily duties. The deck was usually filled with chatter and laughter, happy jokes and teasing. This morning, only hushed voices and the clatter of metal on metal broke the tense, anxious atmosphere of the deck.

Normally, after the morning meeting, Ironhide would wander over and chat with Sideswipe when he had monitor or comms duty. Sideswipe would tease him about his age, Ironhide would regale him with stories about the good old days, and then they'd both joke about the _Ark_ and crew.

Sideswipe knew there wouldn't be any laughter this time.

Ironhide headed straight for Red Alert. "I'm taking two squads out again today. We're running patrols around the perimeter and relieving the Protectobots for a while."

Red Alert nodded. "How are the Dinobots? Do they need a relief?"

"Nah," Ironhide shook his helm. "They're having a great time." On the monitors, Grimlock roared. Slag and Snarl both spewed fire and stomped around, shaking the ground with their display.

"Mm, I suppose you're right," Red Alert said, frowning. "Better there than in here."

Ironhide grunted and moved away. He froze, realizing he was automatically headed for the comms station and for Sideswipe. Sideswipe's red body was ramrod straight, staring intently at the board in front of him, his audial feeds already tied into the _Ark_'s. He was the picture of poised perfection, sitting his shift in rapt, nervous attention.

Ironhide snarled and turned away. He stormed to the central monitor, crossing his arms and fuming.

The door to Prime's office slid open. Prowl and Jazz walked out, talking softly between them. Ironhide's helm whipped around, staring at the two officers. "How'd it go?" he grunted.

"We going to send Wheeljack out," Jazz replied, crossing to stand next to Ironhide. Sideswipe tried to watch it all from his sidelong gaze, all the while trying to fade away and disappear from the tension and into the control panel. His hesitant glances met Prowl's stare, and he tried to quickly look away. Prowl waited for him to look back, then nodded at the red twin in greeting. Sideswipe swallowed against the lump in his throat, and he jerked his helm up and down, a messy, quick nod.

"Wheeljack?" Ironhide was grunting in surprise. "Why 'im?"

"He's popular. He has legitimacy. He's non-threatening." Prowl stood next to Jazz, addressing Ironhide as he stood tall and straight. Jazz slouched next to him, his hands propped on his hipplates. "He'll be able to explain the situation the best out of everyone."

"I'm sure Ratch' could explain it fine, too." Ironhide arched his optic ridges.

Jazz smirked. "Yeah, Ratch' could. But Ratch'd also get pissed off in a hurry, and then we'd have a new problem on our hands. Wheeljack has always been the most popular of us all."

Ironhide glared at Prowl. "I know he goes on all the kids' science field trips and does all the school visits, but ya realize this isn't kids we're dealin' with here."

Prowl arched his own optic ridges. "That is debatable." Prowl held Ironhide's stare as Jazz pretended to not hear.

Ironhide snorted. "Prime thinks this is best?"

"He does."

Ironhide sighed, but finally nodded. "Alright. We're heading out for patrols and relief in an hour. When do ya want to send him out?"

Jazz motioned to Prowl. "We're escorting him out just after noon. We've got go tell him what he's doing first."

Ironhide shook his helm, glancing in between the two officers before he turned and strode off the deck. Jazz and Prowl shared a brief look before they too began to move off, discussing Wheeljack and the logistics for their afternoon. Sideswipe tried to follow it all out of the corner of his optic.

Jazz paused at the door to the Command Deck. He turned back, glancing at Sideswipe. "Good to see ya, Sides," Jazz called out quietly.

Sideswipe whipped around, but Jazz and Prowl had already ducked out into the corridor. He took a deep steadying breath. They could get through this. They could. Slowly, he turned back to his comms board, but his optics fell on Red Alert, openly staring at him with a cold, twisted expression. Sideswipe looked away.

They could get through this. They could.

* * *

Wheeljack stared at Jazz before his optics slowly shifted over to Prowl. Silence stretched out between them as Wheeljack's optics blinked offline for a long moment. "You want me to do what?"

"We need to explain what's going on. The humans are frantic. Conspiracy theories are expanding. They do not understand what is happening here, and all they have to go on is that we disregarded our agreements, violated international treaties, and destroyed protected, sovereign land."

"That was the Decepticons…" Wheeljack tried to interject.

Jazz smirked. "Actually, that was you, 'Jack. Your explosion was perfect."

"It was Perceptor's fault, too. And Brawn." Wheeljack's optics pleaded with Prowl and Jazz.

Jazz smiled as Prowl arched his optic ridges. Their human allies had quickly devolved from fervor and anger over their destruction and unilateral action to frantic panic and worry once the first whispers of why came out. "Robots Having Babies" screamed from the headlines, and there was no end to the conspiracy theory of worldwide takeover through infiltration, reproduction, and domination. "Where Will It End?" asked the newest headline. "We're Giving Away Our Planet," screamed another.

"It's got to be you, 'Jack," Jazz said, nodding at the nervous engineer. Wheeljack was the perfect choice. He was on nearly every one of their initial PR campaigns, and he had quickly become one of the favorite Autobots to the humans. If there was one Autobot that could smooth this over, calm their nerves, and clear up all the misunderstanding and confusion, it was him.

"I don't even like sparklings," Wheeljack blurted out, still looking between the two officers. Ratchet's attempts to discuss the emergence process had resulted in Wheeljack's processor nearly overheating. Wheeljack wanted to help Ratchet, he really did. He wasn't a medic, though; he was a mechanical engineer. He had learned medical care through necessity, and, if he was honest with himself, as a way to get to know Ratchet back in the beginning. This wasn't his best area, and now, with the sparkling, he felt so entirely out of his element.

"I'm not a medic," he said, his vocalizer pleading, one last time.

"We don't need a medic for this," Prowl answered. "We need someone friendly and informative. You can do this."

Wheeljack sighed and set down his tools. "When do we leave?"

"Just after noon. Ya can do this, 'Jack." Jazz smirked. "Work on your speech."

Wheeljack groaned as the two officers slipped out. Jazz tried to smile at him, but Wheeljack was already slumped in his seat and reaching for a data pad.

* * *

Sunstreaker stared around their silent quarters. Everything looked the same, but nothing was. It was all different.

He'd onlined several hours after Sideswipe had left for his shift. He was still recovering, both from the argument the night before, their revelations and emotional purging, and from the tail-end of his surgery and rehabilitation.

He still felt weak. Sunstreaker hated to be weak, in any way. It was just another reason he had hated his life and his feelings for Sideswipe. They made him weak, made him fragile. Sideswipe could make his day with a smile, or crush him entirely with his infidelity. If Sunstreaker couldn't care, it would have been better, but he couldn't force himself to not love his brother.

It would be different now, though. He kept telling himself that, repeating it in his mind over and over. Sideswipe promised he'd stay. He said he loved Sunstreaker. He promised.

Still…. Sunstreaker felt uneasy. He never bared himself like he did the night before. He felt naked, vulnerable, and exposed. Sideswipe knew now, knew how he felt and how much he had hurt. Sideswipe could destroy him. If he left him again, if he hurt him, if he was lying… Sunstreaker offlined his optics and took a deep breath. Sideswipe promised he would stay. It seemed ridiculous, in the face of everything that had happened in their past, but Sunstreaker wanted to believe him.

Sunstreaker's optics darted around their quarters once more. Sideswipe promised he wouldn't hurt Sunstreaker again, but where was he now? What was he doing? He was on shift, but so was everyone else. Smokescreen was out there somewhere, and what if Sideswipe saw him again? Talked to him? Sideswipe was seemingly happy with him. He was smiling, they danced together, they had kissed and everyone had clapped and cheered.

Sunstreaker's vents deepened. Visions of Sideswipe and Smokescreen played over and over in his helm, Sideswipe laughing, happy and playful with other mechs, Sideswipe kissing other mechs, Sideswipe kissing Smokescreen…

Where was Sideswipe? What was he doing? Sunstreaker was an idiot, trusting his brother again. He couldn't make Sideswipe that happy, he never had. Sideswipe always left him. This wouldn't be any different. It was only a matter of time. Each moment Sideswipe was away was just another countdown until he left him. Again. Sunstreaker's vents came too quickly as he worked himself into a furious panic.

Sunstreaker's comm line onlined. "Sideswipe to Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker froze. "What?"

There was a pause, then an exhaling sigh. "I just really needed to hear your voice, Sunny." Sideswipe's vocalizer was soft and plaintive. "I've been thinking about you all morning."

Sunstreaker's processor spun. He swallowed, trying to figure out what to say. He never knew what to say.

Sideswipe beat him to it. "How are you?"

"I just onlined." Though Sideswipe wasn't even in the room, Sunstreaker still felt uneasy and nervous, as if he were there.

"That's good," Sideswipe said, almost too enthusiastically. "You need your rest."

Sunstreaker nodded as his hands fidgeted together. "What are you doing?"

"Comms. It's busy today. Jazz pulled out all the stops to rescue you. Apparently we upset the humans. They're nearly rioting on our perimeter."

Sunstreaker frowned. He only had fuzzy memories of what had happened and no memory of the rescue. The Seekers' faces and horrible vocalizers flicked through his memory, interspersed with burning agony and sounds of screaming. He remembered the screaming. It didn't sound like him though, in his memories. At some point he had heard Jazz, but he thought that had been a fantasy. It wasn't until he woke up several days after Ratchet's surgery that he even knew he was rescued. .

Though he didn't know the full details, Sunstreaker hadn't expected such a dramatic rescue. He wasn't the most popular mech onboard, and he wasn't the one that everyone dropped everything for. No one did him favors. No one even liked him. To think that that the crew had gone all out, had held nothing back to rescue him… Sunstreaker didn't know how to take it. Prime liked to talk about the _Ark_ being a "family," but Sunstreaker had always scoffed at the platitude. He hadn't ever thought that that "family" extended to him. "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know," Sideswipe replied, pausing slightly. "I'm not really being told anything. I'm keeping to myself. I think Wheeljack is heading out for something."

Sunstreaker nodded, still frowning. Hearing Sideswipe's voice was a balm and a torture. It was a relief, and it was an attack, a vicious stab in his spark.

"Are you going to see Ratchet soon?" Sideswipe's voice continued to speak to him, trying to reach out. It was plaintive on the edges, slightly unsteady and uncertain.

"Yeah." Sunstreaker checked his internal chronometer. It was just after noon. "I'll take my ration and then go."

"Everything is going to be great. I know it is." There was a long pause. Sideswipe didn't know what to say anymore. He didn't know the magic words to say to bridge this gulf between them.

Sunstreaker's processor whirled in the silence. What could he do, what could he do _this_ time to change things? How could he make things better between them? He desperately wanted to make this, make them, work. Sideswipe was going to cut the comm line soon, and then he'd be all alone again. What could he do?

"Do you want to go driving after your shift?" Sunstreaker blurted out suddenly. "Just a short drive, around the _Ark_…" Sunstreaker trailed off.

Sideswipe started in surprise. "Yeah… yeah, okay." He smiled, and it transferred into his tone. "I want to spend time with you."

Sunstreaker swallowed, a tiny curl of relief threaded through him. Hope followed after it, faint and trembling. "He likes it, too," he said faintly. "Driving, I mean."

Sideswipe didn't get it right away. Finally, it hit him. "Our sparkling?" he breathed out, his vocalizer entirely different, breathless and excited. "He does?"

"Yeah."

"Yes! Yes! Let's go driving, then! I… I didn't know he liked that…" Sideswipe's voice trailed off, swinging from exuberant to depressed in the space of a few words. He knew nothing about his sparkling, nothing about what he liked or how he was doing. "What else does he like?"

Sunstreaker rubbed his hand over his abdominal plating, imagining the sparkling nestled within his body. "Things… Driving. Recharging. Energon."

Sideswipe chuckled over the comm link. "Sounds like he's living the good life."

"All he needs is a warm body to take over." Sunstreaker slowly relaxed into their shared sense of humor.

"I can't imagine a better body to be in." Sideswipe smiled, imagining Sunstreaker's scrunched up face and sidelong glare, a fixture when he made a bad joke on purpose.

Sunstreaker heard a loud, angry bark through the comm line, followed by a series of unintelligible orders. "Slag. Gotta go, Sunny. I'll see you tonight." Sideswipe paused. "I love you." He cut the comm line right as Ironhide's voice barked out his name.

Sunstreaker was left in his alone in the darkness. He inhaled, clinging to the warm feelings that talking to Sideswipe had unfolded within him. That tiny curl of hope was growing deep within his spark.

Maybe... They could do this.

* * *

Ratchet listened in on the comm feeds as Wheeljack, Prowl, and Jazz left the _Ark_. Ironhide was leading two of his squads outsid_e_, flanking the three officers as they moved toward the perimeter. The Protectobots were back out on patrol, tempering the anger and eager-trigger of Ironhide with their calm and naturally protective dispositions towards the humans.

"Alright, we're at the perimeter in three minutes." Jazz's perpetually easy-going voice transmitted over the comm lines. "Have you made contact, Prowl?"

"I am still attempting."

Their interplay went back and forth, though Wheeljack was silent. Ratchet sat hunched over at this desk, his hands clasped together tightly as the terminal belted out the communications. He wasn't totally thrilled with Prowl's decision to take Wheeljack with him for their PR push, but he did understand it.

"They're at the perimeter. Everyone get ready! Keep your optics focused!" Ironhide's gruff bark was easy to identify over the comm.

"Prowl?" Jazz, that time.

"I have made contact. One moment."

Ratchet sent a silent good luck wish to his partner. Wheeljack was still silent on the comm.

Hot Spot and Streetwise both chimed in, each speaking in tandem. "You're crossing the perimeter now, Prowl." "Sensors online, everyone. This is it." Sirens blared to life, Prowl, Streetwise, and Hot Spot both ringing their alerts at high volume.

Through it all, protestors screamed and shouted bitter vitriol at the mechs. Military sirens wailed, and angry intonations calling for everyone to stand down droned on in the background.

"Move! Everyone move!" A female's voice blared across the channel, augmented by the megaphone attached to her patrol car. The County Sheriff's pulled up behind the crowd of angry protestors, unleashing their sirens in loud peals and wails. "Move! Move! Now!" Ratchet could just make out her voice again, this time without the megaphone. "Let's get you out of here, Prowl," she said.

"Lead the way," Prowl answered.

Prowl's sirens blared twice, signaling his pull out behind the squad car. Jazz revved his engines, the noise echoing over the comm lines. The screaming hordes of protestors hurled insults and debris, banging on the windshields and windows of the Autobots.

Hot Spot and Streetwise kept a running commentary of Prowl, Jazz, and Wheeljack's movements as they left the _Ark_ perimeter and moved away with the police escort. Ratchet was focused entirely on the continued transmissions pouring over the comm lines. Ironhide was cursing again, already upset that the officers were out of sight and out of shooting distance. The Aerialbots were chiming in that they could still see them from their vantage point above, and the Protectobots were fanning out along the electrified perimeter once more and reestablishing their security patrols. Grimlock and the Dinobots continued to roar around the edges as well.

Ratchet missed Sunstreaker's quiet entry to the medbay, as fixated on the comms as he was.

Sunstreaker hesitated just inside the door. He could see Ratchet in his office, hunched over his desktop and staring too-intently at his terminal. His optics were wide and over-bright, focused solely on the comm. Finally, Ratchet looked up.

Sunstreaker froze, waiting for Ratchet's direction. This was the first time he'd been alone with Ratchet since the revelation of his and Sideswipe's relationship. Ratchet hadn't tried to talk to him at all when he was in the medbay. Ratchet had become one of the few mechs that Sunstreaker could let a part of his guard down around. Ratchet had never demanded him to be something he wasn't. Ratchet never passed judgment on his sullen, quiet ways. Ratchet was one of the few mechs on board that Sunstreaker had respected, and even had liked, in his own private way. Sunstreaker hadn't a clue how Ratchet had reacted to the news of him and his brother. He had no idea what to expect from this. He was unexpectedly afraid of losing his one not-quite friend.

Ratchet moved out of his office slowly, not meeting Sunstreaker's slitted and nervous optics. "Sit down," he grunted, motioning to the medberths. Ratchet gathered his tools and pads from his side exam table as Sunstreaker gingerly sat on the far medberth. The clink of the metal on metal was the only sound in the stifling silence of the medbay.

"So now you know," Sunstreaker blurted out, not able to take the tension any longer. He chanced a glance at Ratchet's faceplates.

"When," Ratchet began, "did I lose your trust?" His optics pierced Sunstreaker's.

Sunstreaker said nothing. His lips parted, but no sound came out. His breaths came in quick, shallow pants, ghosting into the space between the two of them and the frozen tensions of the medbay. Finally, he gritted his denta and looked away, shaking his helm.

"Did you honestly think you couldn't tell me?" Ratchet stared at Sunstreaker, no longer hiding his emotions. His optics shone with painful brightness.

"We've never told anyone…" Sunstreaker swallowed, forcing the words out. "We couldn't."

"You could have told me. I'm your medic." Ratchet leaned forward, resting his hands on either side of Sunstreaker's knees against the berth. "You could have told me," he repeated, his face inches from Sunstreaker's.

Sunstreaker shook his helm. "No," he whispered, shifting away from Ratchet's intent stare. "No, I couldn't. I didn't know how you'd react. I didn't know if you'd separate us."

Ratchet's expression darkened. He pushed back, standing straight. He frowned at Sunstreaker as his hands crossed in front of his chestplates. "Why are you protecting him, Sunstreaker?"

"Who?"

"Sideswipe." Ratchet spat the name out. "Why are you allowing him to do this to you?"

Sunstreaker swallowed again, his expression twisted in frustration. "You don't understand…"

"He's using you! How long has he been hurting you like this?" Ratchet's voice rose with each question.

"It's not like that-" Sunstreaker began, growling through clenched and gritted denta.

"You're sparked, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe is out fragging Smokescreen!" Ratchet hollered at Sunstreaker, his own anger and frustration at Sideswipe taking full control of his emotions. Sunstreaker visibly winced at Ratchet's words, his helm downcast. "You fell apart in my arms, and Sideswipe has been acting like nothing is wrong!"

"This is why I didn't tell you!" Sunstreaker shouted, exploding back at Ratchet full force. "You couldn't understand! You don't understand!"

"I understand Sideswipe is a fragger!"

"Yes he is!" Sunstreaker shouted. "But so am I!" Sunstreaker glared furiously at Ratchet, his hands balled into fists. "Do you have any idea what it's like having to live a lie? Having to pretend you don't care? That you don't love him?" Sunstreaker's vents hitched, a mixture of rage and pain coursing through him. His hands shook, his body trembled, and his lips pressed themselves together, trying to contain his too-strong emotions. "I never told him how I felt," he shuddered. The acknowledgement that he was also to blame for their years of painful agony and separation was a tough realization to absorb.

"And how does _he_ feel?"

Sunstreaker held Ratchet's stare, focused and intense. Neither one moved. "He says he loves me," Sunstreaker finally growled.

Ratchet inhaled. "How can you believe him?" His voice was tired, too expecting of pain and betrayal.

"He says this time will be different." Sunstreaker forced his vocalizer to remain steady. A parade of images rampaged through his processor, each one of them starring Sideswipe and another mech. Smokescreen, Hound, Bluestreak, Tracks, Mirage, an unending parade of mechs, all intimate with his brother. "He says this time he'll stay."

Ratchet sighed, his optics full of painful sorrow. "Sunny…" he whispered, shaking his helm. He couldn't say anything else. He was too full of emotion, rage and anger directed at Sideswipe, concern for Sunstreaker, and sparkbreak over their entire horrible situation. "How many times has he said this?"

"Never." Sunstreaker frowned, huffing a burst of air through his vents. "We've never… _talked_ before."

Ratchet frowned, thrown off track. "What?"

Sunstreaker glared at Ratchet. So many mechs were forcing him to talk now, to explain everything. It was exhausting and frustrating, and he was reminded over and over why he hated talking. He wasn't any good at explaining anything. "We never talked about anything before. He never knew how I felt. I never knew how he felt."

"You were just… 'facing?" Ratchet's tone was disbelieving. Sunstreaker nodded.

Ratchet offlined his optics as his body slumped. He was slowly beginning to get a fraction of the picture. "What do you want, Sunny?" Ratchet asked the same question he had over a month prior, in the same medbay, on the same medberth. This time, his voice was softer, and he understood the full implications of Sunstreaker's answer.

Sunstreaker held his gaze. "Him. I want Sideswipe." He paused for a second. "And our sparkling." It felt so odd to say those words aloud. It still didn't quite feel real, either Sideswipe's declaration of devotion to him or their commitment to their sparkling. The reality of everything hadn't fully seated itself yet.

"Is it worth all the pain?" Ratchet stepped back in front of Sunstreaker, closing the distance between them. "Is it worth the risk?"

The parade of mechs continued within Sunstreaker's processor. Sideswipe danced with each of them, laughing, smiling, and happy with everyone but him. He kissed the mechs, nameless, faceless bodies, all of them transforming into Smokescreen twirling within Sideswipe's embrace among a happy, clapping circle of friends. Sideswipe was radiant, joyful, and full of life. Sunstreaker was nowhere. Nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be felt. His life was empty and dark, and Sideswipe was full of lightness and life.

He wanted that. Primus, he wanted that so much. He wanted his brother's happiness and joy to infect him, to overcome his stifling loneliness and darkness and reform his life. Once, long ago, it had been different, and they had been happy. They grew up in each others' arms, sharing toys and bunks and experiences. There hadn't been any separation between them, not at all, not when they moved out of the group homes and not when they'd started their simple life of eking out a living. This had cropped up horribly and insidiously, and it was all so, so wrong.

"He says he loves me," Sunstreaker began, speaking carefully. His vocalizer was unnaturally deep. "I … want to love him, too." He paused, meeting Ratchet's gaze. "Can that be enough? Can't we try?" Sunstreaker's vents hitched. "I'm not saying it will be easy, but…"

Ratchet shook his helm, staring at Sunstreaker. "You keep surprising me, Sunstreaker," he said softly. "The strength you have…" Ratchet shook his helm again, though his lips curved upward in a soft smile.

Sunstreaker frowned, his customary sullen expression falling over his features. "I don't feel strong," he groused. He felt like an incomparably weak mech, desperate for his brother. He couldn't believe how ridiculous he was being, but he couldn't bear anything different.

"Are you kidding?" Ratchet reached out and squeezed Sunstreaker's wrist. Sunstreaker glared at the touch. "I could never forgive. I could never move past this kind of pain."

"You'd give up Wheeljack? If this was you?" Sunstreaker moved his hand away from Ratchet's brief touch. He had no experience with love or with relationships. He couldn't imagine what others would do, if they were in his place. Life either was or was not with Sideswipe. It was dark, miserable and painful without him all these years. Could it be any better with him?

Ratchet straightened. His answer, when it came, was choked and thick with emotion. "I wouldn't be able to see anything _but_ the pain. And… rage."

Sunstreaker shook his helm. "I'm tired of pain," he whispered, sounding nothing like himself. His face twisted. "I'm tired of that life. I don't want it anymore." He breathed deeply, imagining Sideswipe's smile. Sideswipe was smiling at him this time, only him. "If there's a chance, even a possibility, for us." Sunstreaker swallowed. "I want to try. I'm going to try."

Ratchet nodded, seeing the conviction rooted in Sunstreaker's optics. "Alright," he said slowly. "Alright." He picked up his data pad, onlining the screen that had gone dark. He stared at it unseeing for a moment, then looked up at Sunstreaker. "If Sideswipe does _anything_ wrong. If he hurts you. If he steps a single step outside of the line… I will destroy him." Ratchet's gaze was firm and unyielding as his optics flashed. "You're not alone anymore, Sunstreaker. You never were." His vocalizer was slightly chiding.

Sunstreaker nodded, looking away. Maybe Ratchet had felt the same almost-friendliness that he had felt. Maybe he really wasn't alone. That odd, uncomfortable feeling of family and belonging ghosted across his spark. Ratchet continued speaking. "Let someone have _your_ back for once, Sunny." Ratchet smiled and gently rapped his data pad against Sunstreaker's knee.

Sunstreaker frowned and scrunched up his face, wrinkling his nasal arch. It was his own interpretation of a smile. Ratchet chuckled. "You really are stronger than the rest of us, Sunny." He let his words sink in for a moment. Sunstreaker's spark full of resiliency was something Ratchet hadn't expected. It floored him, seeing just how much Sunstreaker refused to give up and continued to push himself, and his sparkling, forward.

He was learning just who this twin was and how wrong he had been for so long about him. "Let's check you out."

* * *

Wheeljack bit down hard on his lower lip as he gazed out over the stunned and silent press pool before him. The assembled human journalists, video cameras, photographers, and newscasters all swirled in his optics. He really hadn't expected there to be this many people listening to him. If he calculated out how many people were watching live, just in this one country… Wheeljack forced his processor to stop. It wouldn't be good to drop offline right after giving a speech to what amounted to the entire world.

Jazz and Prowl flanked Wheeljack from behind, twin pillars of strength and resolve. Jazz was projecting his usual unflappable calm, and Prowl was doing his best to not look as imposing or stern as he usually did. They were trying to pacify the humans here, not antagonize them.

Next to Prowl, and looking entirely too tiny, was Prowl's "lady friend" from the County Sheriff's department, Detective Steele. Prowl had sent her a communication requesting a private way to arrange a conference to explain the swirling circumstances and wild accusations flying around their situation. Detective Steele had pulled everything she had, and in short order, the press conference was set up on the steps of their local governing authority building with worldwide coverage. The Mayor was a bit peeved he wasn't given a longer heads up. The President of the United States was even more so and had to watch the press conference from Washington DC instead of live in Washington state.

"So…" Wheeljack began hesitantly. "Any questions?"

The room exploded in a cacophony of noise. People jumped to their feet, shoving microphones out and all shouting over each other, trying to get their questions in first. Wheeljack's optics surged overbright, going white in shock.

"Is it true this is the first step in your plans for colonization? Is this just a ruse to distract us from your real goals?"

"How quickly will the robot baby be up to full strength and size?"

"Is this a warfighter model of robot? What is its use and purpose?"

"How many offspring do you really plan on having here?"

Prowl stepped forward, his face set in a fierce glare.

Wheeljack raised his hands, trying to beg for silence and calm. The humans hadn't seemed to listen to anything he had said. "This is not an evil plan to take over your planet. This is one sparkling…"

"One of how many?" The question was shouted, and Wheeljack didn't know who had asked it amidst the surging crowd.

Wheeljack sighed. "I don't know. I don't know who else is going to want to have a sparkling. We've been at war for so long, and our species is decimated. What we have here is it – the last of our species."

"But why should our planet have to suffer for you to survive?"

"Suffer?" Wheeljack frowned. "I don't see how you are suffering. We helped you with technology, with defenses, with protection from the Decepticons-"

"That you brought here!" Again, the shouter was unidentifiable.

"We never meant to interfere," Wheeljack sputtered. "When we were trying to find a place to crash land after our battle, this planet was uninhabited."

"It's not anymore!"

Wheeljack frowned. His famous patience was growing thin. His speech had done nothing, nothing at all, and the humans were still screaming bitterness and rage. He just didn't understand it at all. What was the danger in one little sparkling?

Then again, he could. If he stopped himself, and if he reversed the situation, he'd probably be concerned about the propensity of humans and organics breeding uncontrolled on Cybertron. The same questions would cross his processor: where would they live? How would they live? What would they do? Would they take over?

Wheeljack stared at the crowd for a long moment. "We can't take over your planet." His words were loud, and finally gave the room pause. "Did no one tell you? We can't do it. We can't colonize or take over your world."

The humans stared at Wheeljack, then looked at each other uneasily. "The Decepticons seemed hell-bent on taking over our world."

"No." Wheeljack shook his helm as Prowl and Jazz both stared at him. "They want to destroy your world. They want to transform your planet into raw fuel. They want to utilize the energy of your world in an attempt to rebirth our own." Wheeljack shook his helm again, slowly, sadly. "It can't work. Our planet is dead. Cybertron is gone."

There was a blessed moment of silence, which was a vast improvement over the screaming rage that had been directed at him before. Wheeljack pressed on, seizing the moment and the humans' confusion. "We are the last surviving Cybertronians in the universe. This planet has become a second home to us, and while we cherish this place, and we have a very deep connection to both the planet and all of the people on it… this can _never_ be our home."

"Why?" This time, Wheeljack spotted the speaker, a shorter man with a frowning face and too-big glasses in the second row.

"There's no energon here. Your planet is organic. Ours is metallic. The energon crystallization or oxidization doesn't occur here, not naturally. It can't. Your atmosphere, the chemical composition of your planet, the distance of your planet to your sun… there is nothing about your planet that can wholly support us. What we do here now is only a stop-gap." The vast energon farms that stretched over the dark and empty plains of Cybertron were an outgrowth, an almost accidental outgrowth, of their metallic planet's surface and its atmospheric interactions with the radiations and particulates of outer space. They first formed back when Cybertron still orbited a sun of its own, and again, almost by accident, the Cybertronians arose from their planet and slowly began to evolve. Energon, the wild, chemical and energetic growth on their planet, nourished and sustained them.

By the time Cybertron was knocked out of orbit, they had learned how to artificially stimulate and grow their own energon in controlled environments. They had learned how to synthesize it, and then to refine it down to the now-standard liquid form. The crunchy, crackling energy roots, shafts and pits were of the past.

"We can never live here permanently. We can't survive here." Wheeljack stared out over the now very silent crowd.

An Asian woman in a brilliantly red skirt suit spoke first. "What is your long-term plan then? And how does this birth fit into your plan?"

"We call it Emergence, first of all," Wheeljack said smiling, sliding back into his familiar and comfortably good-humored educational role. "Our only long-term plan was to defeat the Decepticons. And when that brought the conflict here, the plan shifted to include protecting you. Protecting Earth." Wheeljack paused. "Now… eventually, we need to find a new home." The statement was final, definitive.

Prowl and Jazz shared a quick look, then stared at the back of Wheeljack's helm. This had veered far and away from what they had anticipated. Wheeljack was supposed to be charming and disarming, and put the humans at ease regarding their situation. How this had veered into a scientific exposition on their weaknesses regarding their new, adoptive home and the long-term future plans for the remainder of their species was an entire unknown. Wheeljack had just spilled the one thing that only Prime, Prowl, and Ratchet had privately discussed: they couldn't stay here forever.

"So you see," Wheeljack said, back to his charming, disarming self, "we're not here to colonize you." His audial fins flashed cheerily.

"None of our long-range scans have shown a planet that can support life, either of your variety or ours." A rather geeky looking man in khaki pants and a plaid short sleeve short spoke up. "Where will you go?"

"These are all very long term thoughts and discussions," Jazz spoke smoothly, sliding up next to Wheeljack. "Right now, we're still trying to recover from the war. It really has only been over for us for… well, a couple of months."

"And that recovery includes babies? Excuse me, sparklings?" the red-suited Asian lady spoke again.

Wheeljack nodded, his helm fins flashing. "It does. One day, we'll leave your world. Hopefully, we'll still be allies then." He gave a nervous sort of chuckle, hoping he'd still be friends with Spike and Sparkplug when this was all over. "We're finally able to start building our species again. We're building our lives again. One day, we'll build a new home, too."

"How does this impact us though? How does your expansion impact our resources?"

"The same way it always has. We will continue to manufacture our energon needs from your industrial waste. Maybe we'll even do the reclamation quicker now, since we're going to be having more tanks to fill." Wheeljack's audial finds flashed as he stared over the crowd. Most everyone was staring at him, silent and in varying degrees of expression. Some were nodding, others were frowning. Some were staring at him with slitted eyes, and others were starting to smile.

The important thing was they had started to listen.

"Excuse me," another man said, a new speaker this time. He was a doctor; Wheeljack could tell from the CDC credentials. "I'd like to ask you a few medical questions, if I may. Our research physicians were unaware of the sparkling when they were last onboard your ship." Wheeljack nodded, remembering Ratchet's sullen and pensive month of not speaking to him. He'd initially thought it was somehow tied up in the visitors and humans parading around the _Ark_, and the endless lectures and skill shares Ratchet was giving each day. Now he knew – Sunstreaker had just recently learned he was sparked, and Ratchet was reeling under the revelation almost as much as Sunstreaker.

"Just how do mechanical lifeforms reproduce in an evolutionary cogent way, then nurture and develop their progeny intra-development, and finally, how do you deliver that progeny and continue the infant-dependent nourishment outside of the 'parental womb?' That is," the doctor asked as he adjusted his glasses for a moment. "How do robots have babies?" The doctor's question shattered the tense atmosphere encasing them all, and nearly everyone smiled or chuckled. Unfortunately, they also all turned immediately toward Wheeljack, their microphones and cameras all raised up to capture his next words.

Wheeljack's audial fins flashed white-bright as his faceplates scrunched up. Jazz chucked softly behind him. "Yeah, 'Jack," Jazz teased. "How do we make 'lil sparklings?"

Wheeljack sighed and stared over the suddenly attentive crowd. Why did this have to be him?

* * *

Sunstreaker frowned as he leaned up against the _Ark_'s corridor. He was waiting for Sideswipe near the blast doors leading out of the _Ark. _Sideswipe was late. His shift ended ten minutes ago, and they were supposed to meet right after. Sunstreaker's frown turned to a scowl as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. His mood turned horribly sour as he made his way through the _Ark_ to the blast doors entrance. Every single mech he passed had stared at him, blatantly and without attempting to hide their morbid curiosity and twisted disgust. Sunstreaker had always been on the outside of the _Ark_'s social circles, but this time, he was orbiting a different planetary system.

Where was Sideswipe? Sunstreaker's anxious worries and fear unleashed from his spark, pulsing full-force throughout his processor and racing through his body in lashes of heat and ice. Visions of Sideswipe laughing, joking, smiling, and happy with all the other mechs played before his optics. Smokescreen's shining optics gazed upward into Sideswipe's smiling faceplates, his look gentle and serene. His doorwings fluttered, his hands caressed Sideswipe's chest, and Sideswipe's hands moved up his back. Slowly, too slowly and crystallized into perfection in the darkness of his optics, Sideswipe's helm tilted downward, his lips pursing before they gently, lovingly caressed over Smokescreen's excited smile.

Sunstreaker offlined his optics and thunked his helm back against the bulkhead. He couldn't escape his nightmares, especially not when they had come so vividly to life right in front of his optics. His tanks churned nearly constantly, and each and every time he imagined Smokescreen's faceplates, the color of his armor, or heard the sound of his voice in his helm, his spark burned with raging, agonizing jealousy. Sideswipe's musical laughter resounded throughout his helm and spark, following on the heels of Smokescreen's easy-natured humor, honeyed voice, and ribald jokes.

Primus, this was a disaster. Sunstreaker's dread bloomed full-force, instantly taking full control of his spark. He and Sideswipe weren't meant to be. They were too different, too entirely different. Sideswipe wasn't here, wasn't waiting for Sunstreaker like he was for Sideswipe. Sideswipe was probably laughing and smiling with the mechs he really liked and truly enjoyed.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor as a mech turned the corner and headed toward the blast doors. Sunstreaker slowly onlined his optics as he rolled his helm against the bulkhead. The metal plates whispered against each other in soft squeaks as Sunstreaker's optics fell on Sideswipe.

Sideswipe smiled at his brother and quickened his pace. His fingers still fumbled with strapping down his shoulder-mounted rocket, and his long-discarded pulse rifle was slung over his shoulder, fully-loaded and ready to go. Sideswipe wasn't taking any chances for their short little drive. The Decepticons were out there, and they had already taken Sunstreaker from him once. That was not happening again.

"Hey," Sideswipe said softly as he drew closer to his brother. Sunstreaker was staring at him with a soft, confused sort of frown on his face. Sunstreaker's optics flicked up to his rocket and over his rifle. "I ran back to our quarters and grabbed these. Sorry I'm late." Sideswipe smiled sheepishly as he shifted. He had known his brother for quite literally his entire life, but suddenly he was nervous in front of him. "I wanted to make sure you were safe out there."

Sunstreaker stared at his brother for a long moment. "We're just running around the _Ark_."

"I know." Sideswipe bit his lower lip. "I'm probably being silly, but I won't take the risk." He shook his helm and held his brother's gaze.

Sunstreaker's tanks rolled over, churning in a completely different way. Sideswipe was being so caring, so attentive. It was all new, so entirely new, and he didn't know how to process the change. Was this his brother, truly? Or was this a façade? How long would this last? Hiding, deep in the recesses of his spark and pulling on his faint tendrils of hope, was the soul-deep fear of not being enough for his brother.

Sunstreaker nodded and pushed himself off the wall. "Ready?" Sideswipe only hesitated for a moment before he nodded as well.

The distance between them was still so vast, and tension filled each moment. Neither of them had ever thought they would be so nervous in front of each other, but here they were on the first date they'd ever been on. Sideswipe was terrified he'd mess this up, terrified he'd screw up this one chance he had to make things right. Sunstreaker was terrified that he'd be hurt, all over again, and deeper than that even, he was petrified that he wasn't what his brother truly wanted or desired.

They set out together, each driving slowly and right beside each other's alt mode. Sideswipe let Sunstreaker set the pace; he wasn't entirely certain how up to driving Sunstreaker was or how fast and hard he could push it. There was so much he didn't know about his sparkling or even about the entire process. It frustrated him, having this huge dearth of knowledge about the most important things in his life. Sideswipe huffed an overlarge vent of air through his vents, and his engine rumbled with the surge of air.

"Want to go faster?" Sunstreaker heard Sideswipe's engine rumble. They were keeping a normal, and for them, sedate pace, heading out on the well-worn patrol tracks to the empty expanses of the hard-packed desert flats.

"Only if you want to. I'm alright." Sideswipe kept close to Sunstreaker's side.

Sunstreaker gunned his engine hard, red-lining as he throttled forward. He zipped out in front of his brother, immediately outpacing Sideswipe as he raced ahead. Sideswipe sat stunned for a moment before he sped up to the chase. They pushed each other hard, swerving close and dipping away before swerving close again. Sunstreaker tried to kick up sand over Sideswipe's hood, and Sideswipe blared his horn in protest as he laughed. As they drove faster and further, the pain and anxiety seemed to vanish beneath their tires and within their throttles. Sunstreaker even gave a few hearty chuckles as they swerved ever closer to each other's alt modes.

As suddenly as it begun, it was over. Sunstreaker pulled to a stop and transformed back into his root mode, his hands rubbing over his sideseams. Sideswipe transformed immediately after, standing next to his brother and staring at him with a worried, near frantic expression.

Sunstreaker frowned at his brother. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Driving excites him." Sunstreaker rubbed his sideseams again, the closest access point to his protoform and their sparkling within. Driving simultaneously revved his systems and depleted his energy, leaving him in a strange, semi-excited, tired state. The kinetic energy transferred into both his power cells and his sparkling, and while his own need for recharge slowly ticked upward, his sparkling within vibrated, tossed and turned within Sunstreaker's tank.

Sideswipe's expression changed instantly, almost comically, transitioning from bright-optic'd worry to open-mouthed shock and everything in between. "Wha…. What?" Sideswipe stepped closer, wanting to reach out to touch his brother but unable to quite do it. "What do you mean?"

Sunstreaker sat down, stretching his legs out. After their race, he'd have to rest a bit and let his energy levels balance out before he drove back. The amount of energy redirection going on in his internals was astounding. He couldn't believe how much of his core energy was devoted to actually growing their sparkling. "The energy of the drive. Some of it transfers into him. I can feel him moving around afterward." As if on cue, their sparkling jerked, banging against the inside of his tank with a purposeful thud. Sunstreaker grunted at the soft internal bump. It was odd feeling, but slowly becoming normal, along with everything else.

Sideswipe's optics were huge. "What does it feel like?" he whispered as he slowly slumped down next to his brother, sitting gracelessly as he focused all his attention on Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker shrugged and looked away. "Like my tank is churning, but… lower. Heavier."

Sideswipe let his optics graze over Sunstreaker's body. His brother was seated, reclining back and propping up on his hands with his legs bent up in front of him. He had his customary sullen expression on his faceplates, though there was an unknowable emotion lining his optics. Sideswipe's gaze finally rested on his brother's abdomen. "Tell me about him," Sideswipe whispered.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything. He likes driving. He likes energon. He likes recharge. He likes being in you." Sideswipe smiled briefly. "What else? I want to know everything." Sideswipe had spent every night awake in Smokescreen's quarters haunted by nightmares of the sparkling he thought he had lost forever. He didn't even know he wanted a sparkling until it was there, and then it was taken from him. A lifetime of fantasies played in his processor over and over each and every night, all intermixed with Sunstreaker's shy, rarely seen smile, his dark optics, and golden plating.

Sunstreaker stared out over the desert. The sun was slowly beginning to set, casting the shifting sands aflame with burning golds and burgundies. How much did he want to share with Sideswipe? How deep did he want to let his brother in? Would it hurt less when Sideswipe left if he kept him out? "I talk to him."

Sideswipe's optic ridges rose. "You? Talk to him?" Sideswipe smiled in spite of himself. Sunstreaker never talked to anyone, not if he could help it.

Sunstreaker cast a sidelong glare at his brother. "Yes. He likes being talked to. I like talking to him. I tell him what's going on. What we did out on the auto show circuit. How ridiculous the humans were." Sunstreaker chanced a glance at Sideswipe and found his brother still smiling at him. "It was the only thing that kept me focused out there. I… needed that."

"Does he know your voice? He knows you're talking to him?"

Sunstreaker cocked his helm as he thought about it for a moment. He nodded. "Yes." He couldn't describe it, but the emotions that ghosted over their shared sparks when he would talk to his sparkling helped seat those feelings of acceptance and belonging deep within.

Sideswipe frowned as his fingers began to nervously play over his rifle housing. "Does he… know me?" his voice trailed off.

Slowly, Sunstreaker shook his helm. His dim optics met Sideswipe's as Sideswipe inhaled, trying to hold in his surging pain at hearing that statement. It made sense: he wasn't there at all, not like Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker and their sparkling were literally one and the same, and Sideswipe had been completely absent from everything since the beginning. Still, he couldn't help but feel devastated at the confirmation that his sparkling, his creation with his brother, knew nothing at all of his existence. His brother was the most important mech in the universe to him, and this life they had accidentally created, the very best of themselves come together, was already just as important. "I understand," Sideswipe choked out. He frowned, his guilt warring with his pride. "I tried though, Sunny. Why did you push me away? In the beginning?"

Sunstreaker's anger bubbled forth unexpectedly. "You said you didn't want him." The implicit feelings of his brother's statement still resounded through his spark. "You didn't want me."

"What?" Sideswipe's incredulous whisper filled the air.

"You told me we had to get rid of him." Sunstreaker swallowed. Sideswipe's sudden, certain dismissal had seemed to finite, so cut and dry, and such a statement on both their accidental creation and on Sideswipe's feelings for Sunstreaker that it had stung in an entirely too-deep way.

"I was …. Terrified. I didn't know what you thought. I thought the worst. I thought…." Sideswipe shook his helm. Everything he had thought had been wrong. "You didn't love me, so how could you love a sparkling we created?"

Sunstreaker recoiled, staring at his brother. His brother, the other half of his life and his spark, the illicit love of his life, and the sparker of his sparkling. Try as he might, no matter how much he wanted to keep his brother out of his spark, he couldn't. "You were wrong."

"I know," Sideswipe cringed. "I'm trying, Sunny. I am."

Silence stretched between them, tense and angry. Sunstreaker stewed in his armor, his bitterness rising in time with his nightmarish replays of Smokescreen smiling and laughing in Sideswipe's arms. "I'm better than them." His jaw clenched as he ground his denta together. "I am." He was the _best_. But… all of that was _meaningless_ if Sideswipe didn't agree. If he didn't agree, Sunstreaker was still all alone in his perfect, gorgeous shell.

Sideswipe frowned, staring at his brother. "Better than who?"

"Them." Sunstreaker's voice dripped with ire. "Tracks. Bluestreak. Hound." He swallowed, but couldn't force Smokescreen's name out. "Him."

Sideswipe froze, his optics surging. He exhaled looked down. "I know." His voice was tiny, barely audible. "I know." Sideswipe looked up, meeting his brother's gaze. "Trust me, Sunstreaker. I know you're the best." His voice was still small and thin.

Sunstreaker's anger surged. "Then _why_…" He trailed off, his jaw clenching painfully.

Sideswipe shook his helm and looked down. There was too much pain, too much history of shame and guilt perpetuated _ad inifinitum_ between them to explain all his reasonings of how and why. He had never felt worth his brother. He knew his brother deserved better. He knew he didn't want to poison his brother with his own damages, his own broken processor and spark. He was _broken_. He was in love with his brother. Trying to contain that and to save Sunstreaker from his damage was his only goal. In that, he had spectacularly failed.

Sunstreaker looked away. Sideswipe's silence lanced his spark. His nightmares flourished, unchecked by fantasies of Sideswipe's reassurances that he was the best, always, and that he was exactly what his brother wanted. Smokescreen and Sideswipe twirled and smiled once more in his processor, laughing and kissing amidst the crowded, smiling Rec Room.

Sideswipe's hand stretched out, reaching for Sunstreaker. His fingertips brushed Sunstreaker's yellow fingers. Sunstreaker grunted, still staring into the distance.

"Talk to me, Sunny…"

"What do you want me to say?"

Sideswipe swallowed. He had hoped their "first" date would go so much better than this. "Tell me about our sparkling. How did everything go with Ratchet today?"

Sunstreaker's processor drifted back to his appointment with Ratchet, and to Ratchet's protective and friendly demeanor toward him. He still didn't know how he felt about Ratchet, but for the first time he felt not so entirely alone. Sunstreaker held to that feeling, trying to push back against the clawing dread that swirled around him as he started to speak. Sideswipe's fingers pushed through his, twinning their hands together. Sunstreaker still looked away as he spoke, but he squeezed back when Sideswipe caressed his palm with his thumb.

Sunstreaker groaned internally, his spark surging and sinking simultaneously. This was not the way to keep himself safe. This wasn't the way to keep his spark safe from the pain of losing Sideswipe again. He wanted his brother, but every step he took toward him encased his future in an ever-present doom, an expectation of pain and abandonment. This wasn't the way to keep himself safe at all.

* * *

Much later, they transformed back into their alt mode at the _Ark_ entrance and started back inside. Sideswipe smiled at his brother sidelong as he reached out and snaked their fingers together in a gentle hold. Sunstreaker glared at his brother, but after a moment, simply grunted and left their hands tangled together.

They had spent the rest of the evening outside the _Ark_, talking awkwardly and softly between each other. Sideswipe asked questions about their sparkling, wanting to know absolutely everything. Sunstreaker told him what he could. Ratchet had given him a new data pad, filled with the technical details of their sparkling and a new little image diagramming his growth within Sunstreaker.

It was tense, strained and distant between them, despite both of their wishes to the contrary. Sunstreaker couldn't stop the nightmares plaguing his processor, and each moment of distance between them reinforced his own feelings of inadequacy. He couldn't make Sideswipe as happy as the others could. He simply couldn't.

Sideswipe didn't know how to pick up the pieces of their life that he had so perfectly shattered. There was no magic fix, not this time.

Still, Sideswipe's smile stayed in place as they walked slowly down the entrance past the blast doors. Sunstreaker didn't say anything, but his hold tightened on Sideswipe's grip. "You start your shifts again tomorrow, right?" Sideswipe asked.

Sunstreaker nodded. Ahead, voices bounced off the bulkheads. His hand tightened on Sideswipe's as Sideswipe's optics surged. They both recognized those voices.

A few steps later, both brothers rounded the corner and came face to face with their old friends.

Sunstreaker's optics fixed instantly on Smokescreen. His spark stilled, freezing as his lines ran ice-cold.

Next to him, Sideswipe gasped softly.

Smokescreen stared at Sideswipe. Surrounding him were all their old friends, Bluestreak, Hound, and Mirage. The six of them had been inseparable, and so many memories had been created for the entire _Ark_ based on their antics and pranks. That was before though, before when they all thought that the twins weren't lovers. When Smokescreen had thought that Sideswipe could one day be his.

Bluestreak's doorwings flared. His optics surged, then narrowed to slits as his anger spread throughout his processor. Hound and Mirage remained still, staring with wide optics at the twins. Smokescreen froze, then, slowly, he began to shake. His optics were over-bright, surging with painful emotion and lined with white-bright scratches of exhaustion and agony.

He hadn't seen Sideswipe since that day, that day it all fell apart around him. He had finally let Sideswipe know just how deeply he felt for him, and then, just then, it all came apart. "How could you?" Smokescreen whispered.

Sideswipe remained frozen, rooted to the spot. Everyone was staring at him, their burning, raging optics pounding into him. He had hurt everyone, betrayed everyone. "I'm sorry…" he whispered, his optics sliding away as he looked down.

"How could you?" Smokescreen growled. "What I felt for you..."

"I know." Sideswipe tried to step forward. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Slag!" Smokescreen moved in front of Sideswipe, blocking him. Bluestreak stepped forward, backing Smokescreen up as Mirage and Hound remained glued to the bulkhead, frozen in silence.

Sunstreaker's rage overpowered his entire body and all of his systems. Smokescreen was there, right there in front of him. Sideswipe and he were inches apart, their plating nearly touching. Sideswipe could leave him right now, leave with Smokescreen and go back to that happy life that Sunstreaker had taken him from. Their horrible drive, their tense date, all their terrible history. Sideswipe didn't have to have that. He could something else. He could have Smokescreen.

"You used me…" Smokescreen stepped closer. His optics flicked over Sideswipe's shoulder, burning into Sunstreaker. "And it's all _your_ fault!" Smokescreen spat, shouting suddenly at full volume.

Sunstreaker's optics slitted to nearly nothing. His rage coalesced, burning full force and surging to explode. There wasn't a mech that Sunstreaker despised more, not now. He was less than an astrosecond away from reacting, from attacking.

"What did you do to him?" Smokescreen shouted, pressing even closer, well within Sideswipe's personal space. Their plating scratched together, the tiny sound magnified within Sunstreaker's processor and given too much meaning.

Sunstreaker snapped, his engine roaring.

"Stop!" Sideswipe shoved Smokescreen away with his free hand, pushing him physically backward as he stepped bodily in front of Sunstreaker, checking his movements. Sunstreaker bumped into his brother's back, bouncing back as Sideswipe stood his ground.

Smokescreen stumbled, not expecting Sideswipe's attack. His optics blazed. Bluestreak grabbed his shoulders, steadying his friend's movements. Both their doorwings flared wide.

Sideswipe stared at Smokescreen, holding his gaze. "You're angry at me. Don't take it out on Sunstreaker. He didn't do anything to you." His hand squeezed back hard on Sunstreaker's behind his back, refusing to let go.

"He did something to you!" Smokescreen shouted. "Why are you with him? Why are you fragging your twin brother?" Smokescreen steadied himself in Bluestreak's arms, then stepped forward.

"Smokey-" Hound began, but was silenced with a brilliant glare from Bluestreak.

"I love him, Smokescreen. I do." Sideswipe gripped Sunstreaker's hand.

Smokescreen's vocalizer keened. "_Why_?"

Sideswipe shook his helm and started walking. The only way back to their quarters was past Smokescreen. He tugged on Sunstreaker, dragging his brother behind him. Sunstreaker's optics were still glued to Smokescreen, still vibrating with rage.

"I'm sorry, Smokescreen," Sideswipe whispered, squeezing past Bluestreak. Mirage and Hound continued to stare at the two, their faces frozen and expressionless.

Smokescreen shook his helm. "You're sorry you started with me, not that you're fragging your brother. Or that you sparked him."

Sideswipe slipped past Bluestreak without speaking. He refused to meet anyone's gaze. Sunstreaker followed a step behind, though he held Smokescreen's depressed gaze with his own ugly, murderous glare.

If Sideswipe's hand wasn't laced through his own, Sunstreaker didn't know what he would do. There was no going back, not for him. His friendship with these mechs was over.

Smokescreen stared after them. He shuddered, his breaths coming in slow, ragged pants as he fought for control. Slowly, he lost that battle, and his spark melted. Smokescreen stumbled, falling into Bluestreak's arms. Mirage and Hound cringed, each reaching for their friend to try to steady him.

"Primus…" Smokescreen whispered, shaking. "It's really true." His helm fell forward, sobs slowly slipping past his vocalizer.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker continued their walk to their quarters in silence, the only sound the clipped and tense footfalls of their feet. Sunstreaker's entire body was still vibrating, the encounter sending his betraying processor into ever more nightmares. Smokescreen's shouts, his accusations of Sunstreaker's lack of worth and Sideswipe's feelings for him bounced around his processor, refusing to be silent.

Sideswipe pulled them both into their quarters quickly. He turned, facing Sunstreaker and grabbing both of his hands once more. "Sunny, I am so sorry you had to see that…"

Sunstreaker's gaze slowly focused in on his brother. His audials were roaring, raging with static and the reverberations of his processor's frenetic, painful energy. Sideswipe's words began to penetrate his haze. "… He doesn't mean anything to me. He was a mistake. It was all a mistake."

Sunstreaker squinted, his helm cocking. "You chose me," he choked.

Sideswipe frowned. "There… was never a choice, Sunny. It's always been you."

Sunstreaker leaned his helm forward, leaning against his brother's forehelm. His optics dimmed as his shoulders slumped. He was exhausted. The day had been an emotional up and down, everything swirling around Sideswipe. He had thought that having Sideswipe to himself would make everything better, would somehow make everything alright. This day had proven just how wrong that was. His thoughts were consumed by doubt, fear and anger, and he no longer knew for certain just what he did want.

For the moment, this was what he wanted. Sideswipe's hands squeezed his gently. Their helms rested together, their faceplates bare inches apart. Sideswipe stretched his neck, nuzzling his nose against Sunstreaker's softly.

* * *

Ratchet chuckled as the TV played in his and Wheeljack's quarters. Jay Leno continued with his monologue, aimed directly at the Autobots.

All thanks to Wheeljack.

In the end, Wheeljack had done it. He'd been exceptional. He'd allayed the humans' fears and explained just what was going on onboard the _Ark_. He'd even stumbled through an impromptu explanation of their reproductive behavior and their sexuality, something Ratchet wasn't even sure he'd have been able to get through. It was doubly impressive considering that Wheeljack was next to useless with all things sparkling.

However… all of that intelligence, all of his cross-species brilliance and his complete and total command of multiple languages, including English, hadn't helped him in his sparkling-induced moment of panic. Wheeljack had flubbed, but he had flubbed perfectly. And now, Jay Leno and everyone else around the world was enjoying it immensely.

"So you all heard the news today, I take it," Leno crooned. "I mean, how could you not? It was everywhere. You don't miss something this big." Leno turned on stage, his idle pacing a regular feature with his hands in his suit pants pockets. "I was shocked. I mean, I had never known." Leno stopped, putting one hand on his chest as that tell-tale sparkle lit up his eyes. "He looked so big all the time. Little did we know that 'Optimus Prime' was really 'Optimus Prim!'" The audience roared.

Ratchet chuckled again. Wheeljack had raced back to the _Ark_ with Prowl and Jazz immediately after their news conference and had buried himself in his lab. Ratchet had tried to go to him after their shift, but Wheeljack had all of his equipment out and was trying to solder huge pieces of metal together as an overly loud pump whirled in the background. Ratchet had no idea what he was working on, but it sure was noisy. It had the intended effect of keeping everyone away. Ratchet had let him stew. Wheeljack had done wonderfully, but his pride had taken a beating.

"C'mon, Ratch'… Can you please turn that off?" Wheeljack's petulant, dejected tone sounded from behind Ratchet's seat on the couch. He turned, glancing over his shoulder as he paused the live feed. Wheeljack had just walked in, his entire posture slumped and defeated. His audial fins barely lit up, and his optics were slightly dim.

Ratchet grinned wide. "Ambi-sexual, 'Jack? You have a masterful command of the entirety of the English language, and you went with 'ambi-sexual?'"

Wheeljack groaned and threw back his helm. "I was thinking about Spike and Carly…" Carly had once written with both her left and right hands while assisting Wheeljack in his lab. She had effortlessly switched hands when Wheeljack had asked her to shift over on the workbench. Wheeljack had thought it was nothing, but Spike had seemed strangely impressed. That led them into a long discussion over ambidexterity, and Wheeljack had spent an inordinate amount of time after that staring at his fellow mechs and watching which hand and body side they favored as well. "It was the first thing that came to mind, and since it was human, I just thought that they'd get it."

Ratchet's grin grew wider. "Oh, they get it all right!"

Wheeljack's helm dropped. "Please, Ratchet. I'm not in the mood."

Ratchet scooted over on the couch and made room for his lover. "Come here, 'Jack," he said, his tone much softer. "You did amazing today. Perfect, really. You did exactly what needed to happen."

"Make fools of us all? Of Prime?" Wheeljack sank down next to Ratchet with a heavy sigh.

"No, disarm the situation. Make us totally non-threatening."

"By making us fools."

Ratchet smiled and reached for his lover. "You saved the day, 'Jack. You kept us safe on our new home, kept our alliances intact, and made everyone laugh over the situation. What could have gone better?"

Wheeljack gestured to the TV. "That. I could have avoided that."

"They adored you."

Wheeljack was silent for a long moment. He sat still, staring at the frozen TV screen. Finally, he turned to Ratchet. "You think I did alright?"

Ratchet leaned forward again, this time pressing a gentle kiss to his blast mask. "You did fabulous, 'Jack. You really did. We're all proud of you." Ratchet smiled softly.

Slowly, Wheeljack began to relax. He sighed as he leaned back against the couch, then let himself slide against Ratchet's side. "I figured you put me up to this."

"Nope. I was terrified for you."

"Hey!" Wheeljack's audial fins lit up dramatically. "You said I did great!"

Ratchet smiled and wrapped his arm around his lover's shoulders. "I know you did. But I was still scared for you in the beginning. I wasn't sure the humans _could_ be pacified."

"Ah." Wheeljack settled back down.

"Which is just another testament to how well you did." Ratchet pressed a kiss to the top of Wheeljack's helm. They sat in silence for several minutes, just relaxing and letting the quiet lull them into a peaceful contentment.

Ratchet pulled away first. "I have something to ask you," Ratchet began slowly. "It's something I've been thinking about for about a while now. I want to know what you think."

"What is it, Ratch? Have an experiment you want some help on?"

"Not quite." Ratchet held his breath. "What do you think about … us… having a sparkling?"

Wheeljack's optics surged. Static escaped from his vocalizer, thick and crackling. He had expected anything else, but never this. Ratchet knew how he felt about sparklings.

"Ratchet…" Wheeljack slowly breathed. "I'm not… I don't even like sparklings…" He fumbled, flustered. "I've never, ever thought about having a family."

"Not even with me?"

Wheeljack slowly shook his helm. "Its just never been something I've thought about. Have you wanted a family?"

Ratchet sighed. "Not before. Not during the war. But since Sunny's sparking, everything about our future has had a different meaning." Ratchet chewed on his lip. "Even if it were ours, you still wouldn't want it?"

Wheeljack tried to imagine it, but his processor rebelled against the idea. He couldn't picture himself as a sparker, or as a creator, and he just couldn't wrap his helm around the concept of caring for a sparkling full time. His work was all-consuming, and he enjoyed his simple life with Ratchet, and the normal things they did together. A sparkling would disrupt all of that. "I just don't know, Ratchet."

Ratchet nodded and looked away. He knew how Wheeljack felt about sparklings, but still, he had to ask. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, if it was theirs, Wheeljack would feel differently. "I understand."

Wheeljack cringed at Ratchet's tone. "Does this mean that much to you?"

"I don't know, in all honesty. I've been thinking about it more and more, and … well, yes. When I think about our life together, I can't help but think that a sparkling between us would fill our lives up with meaning."

"We don't have 'meaning' now?" Wheeljack leaned back.

"No, of course we have meaning now," Ratchet rushed. "But, you are so brilliant, so wonderful with what you do. What you have to offer is so dynamic, and it would be a loss to not pass that on, either in sparkcode or in teaching."

"I can teach someone to do what I do."

Ratchet smiled. "I know. But… I suppose I was just thinking about a legacy that we could create. Something we made, and we did, together."

"A sparkling isn't like the Dinobots, though, Ratchet." Wheeljack's processor flashed back to their first 'legacy,' over a decade ago. "It's forever."

"So are the Dinobots!" Ratchet joked. Wheeljack smiled, but the serious air quickly returned. Ratchet sighed. "There was so much death, 'Jack. For so long. Wouldn't some life be a good thing?"

Wheeljack sighed deeply as well. "It would, Ratch. I'm not saying it's a bad idea to have sparklings. I just… I don't know if _I_ can spark you. I don't know if I am ready for that. I don't know if I ever will be."

Ratchet nodded, swallowing. "Alright. I just needed to ask though." He tried to smile.

Wheeljack reached for Ratchet's red fingers. He twined their hands together. "I'll think about it. I can't promise you anything. But… I'll think about it."

Ratchet nodded and pulled Wheeljack back to his side. They relaxed together, falling into their natural rhythms of holding and being held simultaneously. Ratchet pressed a kiss to Wheeljack's helm as he whispered a soft, "thank you." Wheeljack smiled, his optics dim, before Ratchet unpaused the TV.

Leno proceeded to rip on the Autobots. "Just when you think you've seen it all, Kev'. Robots from space that are 'ambi-sexual.' You know, this puts that 'efficiency' craze of the computer industry into a _whole_ new perspective! 'We can do it all with this _one_ machine!'"

Leno shook his helm as his drummer snapped back a retort. "Hey, Jay, how _did_ you get all those cars of yours?"

Leno smirked and adjusted his necktie, then pumped his fist to his side. "I think ya' know, Kev!" The audience roared as the drummer crashed the cymbals. Wheeljack groaned and buried his face. Ratchet chuckled.

"It's hard being an adult these days. I mean, not only do you have to teach your _children_ about sex education, but now you have to separate the coffee maker and the toaster so they don't have unprotected electrical sex now, too!"

"Electrical sex?" Leno's drummer burst into giggles. "C'mon, Jay…"

"I heard that the two 'parents,'" Leno made air quotes as he said the word, "are actually Lamborghinis. Can you imagine the argument they're going to have when the kid is old enough to drive? 'Can I go on a drive?' 'No!' 'Too bad, I am so fast, you can never catch me! See ya!'"

Ratchet laughed aloud, and even Wheeljack began to chuckle. "That sparkling is going to be a huge mess," Wheeljack mumbled into Ratchet's plating.

"You've got that right," Ratchet chuckled, imagining a future with a sparkling version of Sideswipe or Sunstreaker. "If Primus has a sense of humor, he'll give them something exactly like them."

Wheeljack chuckled as Leno continued with his monologue. "Robots from space… that are ambi-sexual…" Leno sighed and shook his head.

"Turn that off," Wheeljack mumbled, rising from his slouch at Ratchet's side. "I've got better things on my processor…"

"Oh?" Ratchet flicked the TV off.

"I can't give you a sparkling, Ratchet, but I can sure as the Pit practice at it." Ratchet laughed, long and loud.


	12. Chapter 12

**Unintended Twelve**

* * *

Jazz glanced over the Rec Room as he pulled his energon cube from the dispenser. Loud voices carried in a steady din, rising and falling with laughs and the easy banter of the _Ark_.

Conspicuously absent were the twins.

Jazz wound his way through the crowd of mechs, nodding as several waved and called out in greeting. The twins' absence had quickly become the norm. The _Ark_ swiftly glued itself back together, covering the yawing rend their revelation had unveiled. On the surface, it seemed as if there had never been a problem.

Except… there was Smokescreen, still dark and morose in his frame. His optics hadn't held the same light since that fateful day, and his good humor and easy-going nature had seemed to vanish overnight. Bluestreak was given to long periods of silence, and he had become overprotective of Smokescreen. Bluestreak's optics flashed with rage and anger, though he bottled it up, like he bottled everything up. Hound seemed less jovial overall. Mirage was even more quiet than usual. Ironhide was stony and bitter, perpetually scowling and snapping at any mech that crossed his path. Just beneath the superficial surface was a bubbling emotional cauldron, still reeling from the pain.

Jazz's optics raked over the far table, his ultimate destination. There was one mech on board who had seemed to take the revelation in stride, or rather, had seemed to actually improve his relationship with the twins because of the trauma. It was odd, to say the least, and even more so considering who the mech was. Jazz shook his helm as he drew closer.

"Can I join you?" Jazz slid to a stop next to an empty chair at the vacant table. The rest of the room was a bubbling storm of voices and chatter, but Prowl continued to sit alone, isolated and set apart.

Prowl looked up from his data pad. "Please." He extended his hand before offlining the data pad and setting it aside. "How is your day shaping up?" Despite his and Jazz's oddly-growing closeness, he still hadn't shaken his ingrained formality.

Jazz's smile quirked as he sat down. "Just another day."

Prowl waited for Jazz to settle in to his seat. Somehow, starting somewhere amidst the marathon arguments over the twins and their relationship, Jazz and he had finally come to some sort of unspoken understanding. Their tensions of tactics and command during the war seemed to fade away. Prowl had been utterly focused on the totality of their mission, their long-ranging war campaigns and the strategies needed for sustaining their efforts as long as it may last, and Jazz had been equally focused on the immediate battle, the next victory, gaining _that _bit of territory, increase _that_ bit of morale, or gather _that_ piece of intelligence. It had made for some ugly confrontations. But, beneath all of their arguments and tensions, each of them had been working toward the betterment of the mechs under their command. Albeit, they did so in entirely different ways.

Now that the war was over, though, the reasons behind their tensions and difficulties had vanished almost overnight. They had always been colleagues, and each had figured out how to work together after millions of years of practice. Prowl had to commend Jazz for his quick-thinking and daring rescue mission for Sunstreaker. He couldn't have done any better. Jazz's mix of boldness and calculation was the perfect combination for the at-the-moment rescue required. Prowl figured he might have been bogged down with the technical logistics and not have seized the immediacy so effectively.

After it all, Jazz had waited at the _Ark _entrance for Prowl's tire-screaming return, and the moment seemed to solidify the past firmly behind them. As odd as it seemed, they were now building an actual friendship.

Much of their burgeoning friendship had started around the recent upheaval on the _Ark_. "How are the twins?" Jazz asked, setting down his cube. His optics had caught on the data pad in Prowl's hands before he had offlined it, and his visor had easily been able to make out the words scrawling across the screen. Prowl had been reading up on sparklings.

"Sunstreaker is doing well."

"And Sides?" Jazz tilted his helm to the side.

Prowl sighed. He had been working with Sunstreaker during his daily shifts since Sunstreaker had come back on duty. They were pouring through the medbay programs and circuitry searching for the remnants of Soundwave's eavesdropping program. Ratchet had been torn apart to learn that his medbay, a place where he had always set as a completely safe area for his patients, had been a contributing cause of Sunstreaker's capture and torture.

Sunstreaker was slowly beginning to open up to Prowl. Both of them were naturally reticent and reserved, but Sunstreaker took that to an almost obsessive level of introversion. Slowly, Sunstreaker had started to respond to Prowl's few questions, and then had even started talking of his own volition as well.

Unfortunately, what he had to say hadn't been as optimistic as Prowl had been hoping for the twins.

There was still so much distance between the two of them. Bitter sadness clung to Sunstreaker. Prowl had thought that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker could finally have come together now that they didn't have to keep their relationship a secret any longer, but it seemed that that was anything but the case.

Of course, the rest of the crew didn't help matters much. The twins were _persona non grata_, blacklisted, expelled from the social circles of the rest of the _Ark_. Anger, which had raged unchecked next to betrayal, had settled into a complete ostracizing of the offending brothers. They were isolated away and kept separate, even now taking their ration in their quarters with their stockpile of energon instead of showing their faces in the Rec Room.

The confrontation had nearly come to a head with Ratchet. Sideswipe asked Sunstreaker if he could accompany him to all the rest of the exams and checkups related to their sparkling. After only a small glare and surprised moment of silence, Sunstreaker nodded and accepted. Prowl adjusted the schedules to allow Sideswipe the few hours off to join Sunstreaker in the medbay, but unfortunately, Ratchet hadn't been all that thrilled to see Sideswipe. He'd been nearly bitterly silent towards the red twin, only answering his questions in harsh, one-word answers. Sunstreaker was stuck in the middle.

To his credit, Sideswipe refused to be beaten around. He stayed, literally right by his brother's side to the end, despite Ratchet's glowers and Sunstreaker's stony silence.

Afterward, Sideswipe had asked Ratchet for some data pads on sparklings and information on what they could expect for the rest of the carrying and emergence. Ratchet dragged him into his office while he downloaded the data and dressed him down. "If you even _dream_ of hurting Sunstreaker again, Sideswipe," Ratchet growled. "Is this just some notion of misplaced honor and trying to stick by your sparked brother?"

Sideswipe recoiled. "I love him! I always have-"

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I know… None of this has ever been easy…"

"Do you think it was any easier for him?" Ratchet switched out the data pads as one filled up.

"No!" Sideswipe whispered. "Ratchet, I'd do anything to change the past. _Anything_. But I can't. I can't do anything about what's already been done. I'm trying to atone though. I am trying to prove that I am here, now. I'm trying."

Ratchet had stared at him until the data pad beeped, signaling its full hard drive. He pulled it out and handed both pads over, not letting go. "If you hurt him again. If you cheat again. If he ever has a reason to doubt that you love him. If you aren't totally truthful." Ratchet's hand finally let go of the data pads. "I will break you down for spare parts, and I won't bother offlining you first."

Sideswipe glanced out to at Sunstreaker, still sitting on the medberth. "Thank you," Sideswipe whispered. "For taking care of him." Sideswipe smiled humorously. "If I do anything like that again, I hope that you do disassemble me."

The entire and wholly uncomfortable exam had been relayed to Prowl later on when he had asked after Sunstreaker's appointment and then commented on the yellow twin's increasingly black mood.

Inertia, it seemed, was still at work.

"_Ark_ to Prowler! _Ark_ to Prowler!" Jazz waved his hands in front of Prowl's dim optics. "You still with me?"

Prowl jerked back from his meandering thoughts and stared wide-optic'd at Jazz. Jazz grinned at him and settling back into his seat. "Thought you were falling into recharge on me there, Prowler. You aren't working too hard again, are you?"

Prowl smiled and shook his helm. "No. I apologize. I was thinking about the twins."

Jazz nodded. "So I take it Siders isn't doing too well?" His hands played with his energon cube, scooting it back and forth across the table.

Prowl shook his helm. "Neither of them are, actually. Physically, Sunstreaker is doing well. Emotionally…" Prowl trailed off.

Jazz wouldn't meet his gaze. "It isn't the same, trying to force a real relationship, hmm?"

"I don't believe they are trying to 'force' anything." He remembered the twins' emotional, impassioned pleas for understanding during Prowl's confrontation in their quarters. Sideswipe had been especially vocal. "I do believe their feelings are genuine."

Jazz finally looked up, twisting his helm. "Yeah?" he asked, putting all his doubts and uncertainties into that one word.

Prowl nodded, holding his gaze. "I do.

Jazz nodded as well, slowly, letting Prowl's words sink in. "So what's the problem?"

Prowl's optic ridges arched high. "Their past. The _Ark_ and crew. Being ostracized. Take your pick."

"They are the ones who made their choices. You can't blame the _Ark_ and crew for feeling hurt and betrayed."

"They didn't actually make any choices together. That's their first problem."

"Well, it still amounted to the same thing." Jazz gulped down the rest of his energon cube. "They lied. They hurt a lot of mechs."

Prowl's optics narrowed. "And yet, I notice you are still interested in how they are doing. You ask me near daily about their condition."

Jazz shrugged as he flopped back in his seat. "Look, I understand the crew. They're hurt. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were friends with everyone. All of a sudden it comes out that they're lovers? Well, what does that mean? We all saw what happened with Smokescreen. There's this huge dark secret they've kept for years. It's like we never even knew them." Jazz shook his helm.

"They're still who they are, Jazz," Prowl said softly. "They aren't different."

"Everything's different, Prowler." Jazz tried to smile. It didn't work. "I'm struggling with it, I won't lie. I'm angry. I feel lied to. But I'm also worried about them. I'm curious as to what's happening." Jazz's smile turned soft. "And you know there's going to be a lil' sparkling running around here soon. That's a pretty incredible thought."

"Why don't you talk to them?" Prowl tilted his helm as his processor whirred. "Sideswipe has been stuck at comms and monitor duty since he's been back on duty. I can't put him out with his squad or send him on patrol. If you wanted, you could take him for some of the duties outside of the _Ark_. I'm sure he'd enjoy that."

Jazz pondered Prowl's words. He was angry, he was disappointed, he was frustrated with the twins and their lies. But how long would that last? The happy memories they all had shared over the years meant so much to him and to all of the _Ark_. He had countless memories of late night card games, spotting Sideswipe in the middle of one of his silly pranks, or watching the twins wrestle in the Rec Room. He thought back to just how many times the twins had saved the _Ark_, other crewmembers, and even his own life over the years. What was different about them now, if they had been 'facing each other even back then? In a way, nothing, and yet everything. They had still lied and made choices that hurt everyone else. That pain, that hurt, was still flourishing and ongoing, and nothing seemed capable of stopping it.

Slowly, Jazz nodded. "I can do that."

Somehow, inertia would have to break.

Prowl smiled. "Thank you. I think that will help." It was the little things that would eventually build up to the big things, as in everything.

"I hope so, Prowler." Jazz smiled thinly. "For everyone."

* * *

Sideswipe was bored.

It was the 16th shift he'd spent at comms, and since that first shift when things had been tense and uncomfortable with the humans, everything had been rather dull and uneventful. He wasn't going anywhere, and he wasn't doing anything. His life was a mixture of boring shifts and tense, even more uncomfortable evenings with Sunstreaker. It seemed like no matter what he did, whether it was tentatively smiling a good morning greeting at the rest of the Command Deck and being ignored or glared at, or trying to figure out the right words and actions to defuse the tense and ticking time bomb that was his brother, he was a failure. Boredom, and worse than that, futile uselessness and the faint tinges of resentment were beginning to set in.

Sideswipe sighed and punched at the controls, acknowledging Cliffjumper's squad reporting in. His engine rumbled faintly, remembering what it was like to drive. He and Sunstreaker hadn't gone outside the _Ark_ since their first date.

Sunstreaker seemed frozen, though, not moving toward or away from Sideswipe. Sideswipe was kept at arms length, allowed to recharge with his brother on the berth and ask him a few questions about his day or their sparkling. Anything else was strained to the point of being too uncomfortable to pursue. Sideswipe was desperate for his brother's love, his acceptance, and most importantly, his forgiveness. He still had a long, long way to go to get there though, it seemed. He just wished he knew what to do.

The Command Deck doors slid open on the far side away from Sideswipe. He didn't even bother looking up. No one came to see him or speak to him ever. He was the permanent fixture in the corner, the red-plated bastard that no one liked.

Silence fell over the deck, thick and heavy. The low din of chatter and tapping of controls paused for a moment, enveloping the deck in a thick storm of surprised anticipation. Footfalls clipped across the decking, heavy metal on metal echoing in the silence. Sideswipe was oblivious to the change, listening in to the chatter of Cliffjumper's squad and imagining the sunshine on his plating and the dirt grinding beneath his tires.

"Hi," Sunstreaker's deep, guttural voice spoke just behind Sideswipe.

Sideswipe whirled around, his optics surging in surprise. "Sunny!" He gasped, his optics raking over his brother's body. "What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

Sunstreaker frowned. "I'm fine," he said, then paused. "I… just came to say hi." He held his brother's gaze. Prowl had to take a comm from Prime in Washington DC, and Sunstreaker had stewed for ten minutes before the part of his processor that wanted to be with Sideswipe won a brief victory over the other part of his processor that was screaming to run away from Sideswipe.

Now, that part was screaming again, telling Sunstreaker this was a horrible, terrible idea. Every pair of optics was fixed on them. Sideswipe was staring at him like he was broken or glitching, and the whole thing was really a bad idea.

Slowly, Sideswipe's face broke into a wide, glowing smile. "Hi," he breathed, his optics glowing. "How are you?"

Sunstreaker swallowed. "I'm alright. I just finished my ration." Sideswipe looked happy to see him, thankfully. He was trying, he really was, to reach out. His inner monologue kept holding him back, though, chaining him to his fear.

Sideswipe beamed at his brother. He couldn't believe Sunstreaker was actually there. "Great! How has your morning been?"

Sunstreaker nodded. "Fine. Prowl and I are about done with recoding the medbay." The work had been long and tedious, taking one system offline, pouring through the coding for Soundwave's eavesdropping markers, and then onlining it again. He motioned toward the comms board. "What are you doing?"

Sideswipe shrugged. "Just comms. Nothing exciting." He smiled at Sunstreaker. "Want to go driving later? Get away for a while, just us?"

Sunstreaker hesitated. "How about on our day off?" He was near disgustingly tired all the time. His energy was sucked to his sparkling on a constant basis, and just getting through the shift was enough to drain him.

"Okay." Sideswipe nodded. He reached out and took hold of Sunstreaker's yellow hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm so glad you came up here, Sunny. Thank you."

Sunstreaker squeezed back as a tiny smile started unfurling across his faceplates. He opened his mouth, ready to tell Sideswipe how he had been thinking about him all morning.

Ironhide's voice boomed out across the Command Deck. "Sideswipe! Sunstreaker!" Both twins whipped around, their hands separating as if burned. "This isn't the place." His voice growled over the decking. "Keep it in your quarters!"

Sunstreaker was suddenly overly aware of all the optics fixed on them both. His optics raged, burning white hot as he whirled around and strode off the Command watched him go, feeling his good mood sink deep into his tanks. So much for trying to make things work.

Sunstreaker pushed past Jazz on his way off the Command Deck. Jazz's helm whipped around, looking from Sideswipe's dejected face and the wide-optic'd stares of the rest of the crew to Sunstreaker's furious retreat. His conversation with Prowl that morning played over in his helm. _"…The crew isn't helping them at all…"_ Jazz watched Sideswipe sigh and return to his position at comms, slumping into his seat.

Jazz took it all in, making a point to fix a steely stare at each mech still watching Sideswipe.

"Hey, Sides, how's it going?" Jazz forced his vocalizer to his easy-going calm as he came up behind the red twin.

Sideswipe looked up at Jazz. "I'm alright, Jazz." He tried to smile. "What's up?"

Jazz chewed on his lip briefly as he stared down at Sideswipe's open face. His optics were bright but tinged with sadness. Memories flashed through Jazz's processor, all the good times before with the twins. "I've got to head out and manually check the beacons on our south perimeter." Jazz hesitated. The work was dull and could have been easily passed along to one of the other squads. The request had been sitting in his inbox for a few days.

"Want me to set up a separate comm channel?" Sideswipe was already reaching for the comms board to run the sub-network for Jazz's test.

"Actually… I was wondering if you wanted to come with me." Jazz waited as Sideswipe whirled around in his seat. Jazz almost stepped back at the look of surprise and happy wonder in his optics.

Sideswipe smiled, genuinely shocked and delighted for the second time in an hour. Not a single mech on board, save, oddly enough, Prowl, had wanted anything to do with them. Sideswipe was slowly starting to feel like the ghostly presence of his former self. The chance to escape, to get off the _Ark_ and to be with another mech, someone he once considered a friend, was intoxicating. "I'd love to."

Jazz twisted and called over his shoulder, "'Hide, I need you to fill in a mech here at comms. I'm taking Sides out on patrol."

* * *

Sideswipe relished the crunch of the warm desert grit beneath he tread of his tires. His engine roared, opening up for a full throttle as he and Jazz tore from the _Ark_ and headed south.

"Wait up, Siders!" Jazz called out. He was fast, but Sideswipe was most definitely faster, especially when he was redlining his engine. "Don't go trying to beat Skyfire, now!"

Sideswipe laughed and slowed his pace, though that thrill and thrum within remained. "Sorry, Jazz," he said with a clear smile in his tone. "It's been a while."

"I know." Jazz pulled up beside Sideswipe's alt mode. "I would say 'race ya to the south border,' but I just know that you'll beat me."

Sideswipe let his engine roar. "I was actually faster on Cybertron."

"We all took hits to our top speed here. These alt modes just can't support those specs." Jazz paused, letting his sensors expand outward. "Hey, are you picking up on these readings?"

Sideswipe flared his sensors instantly. "Where? What do you see?" After Sunstreaker's abduction, Sideswipe was ready to dismember the Seekers and rend their pieces to oblivion as slowly as he possibly could.

"You in my rearview mirror!" Jazz's engine redlined and he tore off, his tires squealing and dust flying after him in a spray against Sideswipe's plating. Sideswipe sputtered as Jazz accelerated faster, pulling far and away.

"Jazz!" Sideswipe shouted and took off, chasing Jazz and his solid lead as they headed south. In the end, both mechs jostled each other neck and neck, plating scrapping against plating as they bore down on the first of the southern beacons. Each swerved wide, splitting the beacon just seconds before barreling into it.

"Tie!" Sideswipe shouted, transforming as he skidded along the ground, bracing himself with his hand dragging in the dust.

Jazz laughed. "You just don't want to admit that I beat you!"

"Beat me?" Sideswipe stood, brushing at his plating. "You tricked me!"

Jazz grinned wide and spread his hand as he rose from his alt mode. "That's what I do."

Sideswipe crouched at the first beacon. "Ready to take this one offline?" Sideswipe pulled off the control panel covering and worked at the switches. He cut the main power feed, then began the off-network series of circuit checks for the internal wiring. Jazz knelt down next to him, feeding Sideswipe new circuits for ones too badly worn to be reused and helping to clean those that had only a mild form of corrosion. Sideswipe was light-sparked and cheerful, happy to be outside and working once more, even if it was just beacon maintenance.

The afternoon slowly wore on as they moved from beacon to beacon, heading up the southern exposure of their border. It was wilder out this way, more full of desert, mountains, and scrubland than their other regions. Most mechs didn't come out this way unless they wanted to be alone.

Jazz and Sideswipe worked in mostly companionable silence, discussing the circuits they were replacing and offering opinions on whether it was salvageable or not, but not delving into anything deeper or more profound than the weather and their task at hand.

Finally, Jazz spoke. "So… how's Sunstreaker?"

Sideswipe's movements stilled for an astrosecond, but he recovered and handed over the old circuit he had just removed and accepted the new replacement without looking into Jazz's visor. "He's good," Sideswipe said, nodding slowly. "He's doing alright."

"I ran into him coming onto the Command Deck today. Everything okay?" Jazz watched Sideswipe's profile.

"Yeah." Sideswipe frowned, working to push the new circuit into place. "He was just coming to say hi. Ironhide didn't like that."

Jazz murmured. "'Hide's still hurting."

"He's not the only one that's hurt and upset," Sideswipe grumbled, finally seating the circuit into place. He closed the panel with a quick snap and stood abruptly. "Ready to move on?" His gaze was closed, his expression a set of practiced neutrality.

Jazz was struck by how nearly identical Sideswipe suddenly looked to Sunstreaker. Their twin expressions of nothingness were nearly identical, despite their un-identical features. He nodded. "Sure. Let's get moving."

Silence fell over them both again, this time anything but companionable. The drive to the next beacon was longer than the others, covering a wider swath of the wilderness on their border. Jazz followed behind Sideswipe, trying to piece together his own thoughts.

Sideswipe reached the next beacon first and began working at the casing right away. A small frown stretched over his features, a product of his concentration and the turn in the conversation. Jazz stood behind him, silent.

Sideswipe turned for a replacement circuit and met Jazz's gaze briefly. As he turned back to the beacon, he finally spoke again. "What's going on with you, Jazz? How are things going in your life?"

"Things are alright." Jazz titled his helm, watching Sideswipe. "Everything's a bit shook up right now, but… I hope it's going to settle down sometime soon."

Sideswipe yanked hard on one of the circuits in the back, cursing softly. "Yeah. Me, too."

"I've been spending a lot of time with Prowler, actually," Jazz blurted out, trying to steer the conversation back to neutral ground. "We're actually getting along."

"You?" Sideswipe turned slightly, casting a sly grin over his shoulder. "And Prowl?"

"Yup." Jazz grinned, squatting down next to Sideswipe to look over the remaining circuits. "Despite our… tactical differences, we're actually getting along well now."

"That's what you call it? 'Tactical differences?'" Sideswipe glanced at Jazz sidelong as Jazz's grin turned wry.

"Yeah, yeah!" Jazz laughed, shouldering Sideswipe. He motioned for one of the circuits in the back. "That one needs cleaning."

Sideswipe reached deep into the beacon and pulled at the circuit as his now-glowing optics twinkled back at Jazz. "I'm glad you two are getting along. We've gotten to know Prowl a bit more, and he's a pretty incredible mech. So are you." Sideswipe hesitated, looking away. "You were always one of our friends."

Jazz stood silently, watching Sideswipe clean and replace the circuit. Everything was different, and yet nothing. Everything and nothing. "I'm still your guys' friend." He nudged Sideswipe's back gently with his knee.

Sideswipe froze, then turned and gazed up into Jazz's visor. His lips parted soundlessly before spreading into a wide, soft smile. "Thank you," he whispered, barely breathing the words out.

Jazz smiled back and held out his hand. "Let's keep going. It's getting late."

Sideswipe spoke up again just before they hit the last beacon. "There is something you two have in common, you know." Jazz transformed and turned a questioning look to Sideswipe. "You both got us through the war."

Jazz started, surprised. "Prime got us through the war. He's the one who led us all to victory."

Sideswipe nodded. "Yes, but you two were leading us in different ways. You both kept us glued together, when we could have fallen apart. Kept us moving when we wanted to offline. Kept the battle going when it seemed hopeless." Sideswipe shrugged. "Maybe because you were so different you were able keep us going. Whatever you did," Sideswipe smiled lopsidedly, "even if it was arguing, made it all work out."

And suddenly, Jazz knew. He knew exactly why he had befriended Sideswipe, and why he had cherished that friendship. Sideswipe was always upbeat, always the cheerful mech who kept things light. He was friendly, charismatic, and fun almost by accident, and Jazz hadn't ever realized before just how important that had been to not only him, but to everyone. Jazz was used to being the plucky, good humored one, the unofficial morale officer on board. All along, Sideswipe had also been there, keeping up his natural good humor and keeping everyone, even Jazz, upbeat.

Everything was different. And nothing was at all.

Jazz smiled. "Thanks, Siders. That means a lot."

Sideswipe shook his helm. "Don't call me that," he said with a small smile. "Sunny hates that nickname for me."

Jazz nodded once. "No problem, Sideswipe." They closed up the beacon and turned back toward the _Ark_. "I brought some cubes. Wanna have some out here? Relax a little before heading back?"

Sideswipe nodded. He really was enjoying his time outside and, for the moment, away from everything on the _Ark_. "That'd be great. Thanks."

Jazz motioned for Sideswipe to follow him and the two dropped into their alt modes for a short drive to a nearby cliff edge. Jazz transformed back into his root mode and sat with his legs dangling over the dusty, rocky ledge.

"Wow," Sideswipe murmured, sitting beside Jazz. "I'll have to bring Sunny out here. Maybe he'll want to paint this." The vista spread beneath them was barren and desolate, yet hauntingly beautiful for its isolation. Few scrub brushes sprouted here and there, some far off in the distance. Huge stretches of red-packed sandy dirty covered the entirety, and all of that was framed above by an endless, cloudless sky.

Jazz pulled the cubes from his subspace. "So tell me, Sideswipe, really. Why Sunstreaker?"

Sideswipe rolled his cube in between his hands. "He is… the other half of my soul." Sideswipe looked up and peered into the distance, his face pinched and pained. "We are two halves of a whole separated into two bodies. I am incomplete without him."

"But you're so different…"

"We really aren't." Sideswipe shook his helm and glanced quickly at Jazz. "We have the same ideals. We think the same way. We're both obsessively private-"

Jazz snorted. "You aren't private, Sideswipe!"

"Yes, I am," he retorted. "Have you ever been to my quarters?"

Jazz frowned. "No."

"Do you know my favorite music? Favorite place on Earth? Best memory?"

"No…"

"Do you know anything about me and Sunny before the Autobots?"

"…No."

Sideswipe smiled. "I keep the most important parts of me hidden deep within. Sunstreaker does the same thing, he just doesn't work to project like I do."

"Huh." Jazz said, frowning.

"We have the same sense of humor," Sideswipe continued, speaking softly and remembering their jokes and laughs from time immemorial. It was Sunstreaker who used to make faces at him in the berth across when they were younglings, trying to get him to giggle and break the offcycle noise restrictions. It was Sunstreaker who first started their now-infamous pranking practice.

"A lot of siblings are similar like that though, and they're not lovers," Jazz pressed, thinking of the Aerialbots and the Protectobots.

"He's all I've ever known," he said softly. "We grew up in the group homes on Cybertron. We were abandoned right after emergence. He was all I had. I was all he had." Sideswipe swallowed. "I've lived my entire life for him. He's the best thing I've ever known, and it was … natural that I fell in love with him."

"When did that happen?" Jazz's voice was soft, and he didn't really know if he wanted to know the answers or not.

"After we moved out of the group homes. Sunny got us out. He was an artist, Primus, the best artist I've ever seen. We lived in a shack. He painted and I sold them each week at the market. It was perfect." Sideswipe smiled sadly, wistfully wishing for the old times.

"What happened?" Jazz asked, incredulous. It was obvious, as obvious as it had been to Prowl, that Sideswipe was deeply in love with his brother.

Sideswipe stared out over the expansive vista, perfect and unblemished as his tanks churned within. "I fragged up," he whispered. "I… would do anything for him. I tried to help, but… I just broke everything to pieces." He looked down, staring into his cube mournfully.

"I don't understand…"

"I didn't know he loved me, too. I kept trying to… avoid my defectiveness. Avoid my damage."

"Damage? Defectiveness?"

Sideswipe finally met Jazz's gaze. "I love my brother, Jazz. Like you said, other siblings are close and aren't lovers. I am in love with Sunny. I have to be defective somewhere. I'm broken."

Jazz frowned as Sideswipe turned back to the expansive vista. He stared at Sideswipe's profile. The red twin looked haggard, exhausted, deeply troubled, and worse than all of that, ashamed. Jazz had never seen him look so defeated.

Jazz reached out and rested his hand on Sideswipe's shoulder. "I don't think you're defective, Sideswipe," he said, gently squeezing his shoulder. Sideswipe's helm turned, and he stared wide optic'd into Jazz's gaze. "You're _weird_, don't get me wrong!" Jazz quipped with a smile. "But I don't think you're broken."

"Thank you, Jazz." His voice was soft and full of gratitude.

Jazz gave his shoulder another gentle squeeze. "Ready to head back?" The sun was beginning to droop, and the afternoon shift was already winding to a close. Sideswipe nodded, and they both stood together, dusting themselves off briefly before they dropped down into their alt modes for the long drive back to the _Ark_.

The drive was silent for the first half. Finally, Jazz spoke again. "Is that why you were berth hopping, Sides? Trying to avoid what you felt for Sunny?"

"Yes."

Jazz sighed. "You've hurt a lot of mechs, Sideswipe. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to fix this."

"I know. And… I don't particularly care about all that right now." Sideswipe paused, trying to figure out how to say what he was trying to say. "I'm sorry I hurt others. But only in so far as I wish I had never hurt Sunny. I'm sorry I was with them, but not because I hurt them. Because I never wanted to be with them." Jazz was silent. "My focus is on Sunstreaker right now, Jazz. I need to see if I can fix us. That's my world."

Jazz mulled over Sideswipe's words. "Okay. I can understand that."

"I want to thank you, Jazz. For this. For… listening."

Jazz smiled and swerved closer to Sideswipe's alt mode. "Anytime."

* * *

Sunstreaker stared at their closed quarter's doors. He _knew_ this would happen. He _knew_ it. He couldn't trust his brother at all. Sideswipe was a liar, always. Why couldn't he _know_ this? Why couldn't he remember this? Why did he always, always fall into this trap again? Sunstreaker's processor screamed, and his spark ached, burning with hurt and shame.

It was two hours past the end of the shift, and Sideswipe still hadn't returned to their quarters. Sunstreaker, against his better judgment, was slowly beginning to open his spark back up to his brother. He had gone to see him just that day, wanting to see him during his mid-shift break. What a fool. What a hopeless fool he always, always was.

Their door opened suddenly, and Sideswipe practically bounced into their quarters. "Hey, Sunny!" he smiled wide, the first time Sunstreaker had seen his cherished, wide smile in over two weeks. "You're never going to believe what happened this afternoon."

Sunstreaker recoiled as if struck. Who had put this good mood into Sideswipe? It hadn't been him. It hadn't been anything he had done. Who else on board was able to see Sideswipe in his best, with that cheerful, happy smile stretched over his face? Sunstreaker's processor instantly displayed Smokescreen's image, his hands delicately resting on Sideswipe's chest as their lips moved together for a gentle kiss. Sunstreaker shook his helm angrily, trying to dispel that nightmarish image. "Where have you been?" he ground out, trying to keep his voice level. He failed, entirely.

Sideswipe froze, his optics widening. "Sunny?" His good mood vanished. "What's wrong?" His vocalizer rose in pitch, fear moving in to occupy what used to be his happiness.

"Where have you been?" Sunstreaker shouted, springing to his feet from his slump on their couch. "Who have you been with?" His optics raked over his brother's form. He didn't want to find it, but there it was. A white paint streak, small and faint, stretched out on his brother's plating, almost tucked out of sight. Sunstreaker keened, his face contorting painfully. "What the frag is that?"

Sideswipe's mouth dropped open, entirely unprepared for his brother's rage. He looked down, then found the faint, tiny paint streak of Jazz's. He remembered jostling the Saboteur on their race to the first beacon early that day. He hadn't noticed the paint transfer at all. "I was with Jazz-" he began.

Sunstreaker cut him off. "Jazz?"

Sideswipe's optics surged, finally understanding what Sunstreaker thought he had been doing. "Sunny! You think I've been…" His spark burned, rage mixed with despair coursing through him. "I was out with Jazz doing beacon repair this afternoon!"

"How did you get his paint all over you?" Sunstreaker was still raging, and he had finally lost control over his vocalizer.

"We were racing! We raced to the southern border and jostled each other at the finish!"

"How do you expect me to believe that?"

Sideswipe's optics burned white-hot. "Why do you instantly assume that I've been out fragging someone?" Sideswipe was shouting now, nearly out of control himself.

"Because you're always fragging everybody!" Sunstreaker bellowed.

"I'm sorry!" Sideswipe shrieked, beginning to shake. "I never wanted any of them!"

"But you still did it," Sunstreaker spat.

Sideswipe stared at his brother as his emotions crested. His body was shaking, uncontrollably overcome with his despair. He couldn't believe how out of control everything had become. Anger bubbled within. "What do I have to do, Sunstreaker? Tell me… I'll do anything." Sideswipe moved forward, slowly closing the distance between them.

Sunstreaker stared into his brother's optics. Neither moved, and neither spoke. Finally, his vocalizer ground out, "I don't know how to trust you."

Sideswipe exhaled, his entire body sagging in despair. "Sunny, this isn't working…"

Sunstreaker optics met Sideswipe's. He said nothing, merely stared into his brother's gaze. His optics were unguarded, filled with anguish. Sideswipe couldn't ever remember seeing his brother so pained. "You aren't happy, Sunstreaker. Neither am I."

Sunstreaker flinched. "I can't make you happy?"

"I'm happy when we're together. When we're strong. This…" his hand stretched out, then flopped uselessly at his side. "This isn't us."

"What do you want?" Sunstreaker asked, his voice choking with static. "What do you need to be happy?"

Sideswipe held his gaze, his optics turning fierce and determined. "I need you to trust me, Sunstreaker. What I did… I _regret_." Sideswipe swallowed, steeling his nerves. "I did it for you, in my fragged up processor. I did it because I thought I was hurting you by being with you. I hate myself for what I've done… to you, and to us."

Sunstreaker shook his helm. "I don't know how to trust you." He slowly lifted his helm. "I'm just waiting for you to hurt me again."

Silence stretched out between the two brothers.

"I can't do this," Sunstreaker grunted. He sidestepped his brother and headed toward the door.

Sideswipe crumbled, collapsing to his knees.

* * *

Sunstreaker tore down the _Ark_'s corridors, not seeing, not hearing anything that passed him by. He had no idea where to go, no idea what to do. In the past, he'd blow out of the _Ark_ and drive away for an entire night, then come back to a punishment detail by Prowl. This time, he was stuck, stuck onboard the one place he needed to be free of. His spark raged, burning in agony as he stormed through the hallways.

Sunstreaker turned a corner and nearly bounced off of Jazz's plating. They crashed into one another, bouncing off of each other's plating and stumbling without coordination. Sunstreaker's optics zeroed in on the red paint on Jazz's white chestplates.

Sunstreaker exploded. He grabbed Jazz by the shoulderstruts and hauled him up, slamming him into the opposite corridor's bulkhead. Jazz hit the metal plating with a loud slam, the echo reverberating throughout the hallway. His helm cracked backward, stunning him momentarily.

"Did you frag Sideswipe today?" Sunstreaker hollered. "Did you?"

Jazz's optics flickered, stunned by his vicious assault. His legs kicked out, reaching for the decking more than a foot beneath where he was pinned. Sunstreaker's arm bore down, pressing his shoulders into the bulkhead. The metal plating screamed in protest. "Sunny?" Jazz coughed, his vents off cycle. "What are you talking about?"

"You were with him today! Did you frag?" Sunstreaker's optics burned with rage.

"No!" Jazz frowned down at Sunstreaker. "He spent all afternoon telling me how much he loved you!"

Sunstreaker dropped Jazz, letting him fall to the decking as he backed away. Sunstreaker stumbled, falling until he slid against the bulkhead, dazed. Jazz picked himself up and slowly moved to his side.

"Sunny? What happened?"

Sunstreaker didn't answer.

"C'mere," Jazz growled, grabbing Sunstreaker's elbow joint and hauling him to his feet. Sunstreaker moved as if a drone, following unseeingly behind Jazz as the officer led him through the _Ark_. They finally stopped outside a familiar set of doors. Jazz buzzed for entrance.

"Enter!"

Jazz threw a glance at Sunstreaker before they stepped inside Prowl's office. Prowl rose from his desk, a worried frown crossing his features at seeing Sunstreaker shaking and entirely closed off, his expression a glazed mask of agony.

"What happened?" Prowl demanded, moving around his desk as Jazz brought Sunstreaker into his office. Sunstreaker slumped against the bulkhead, sliding down to the decking once more, his legs flopping gracelessly out in front of him. His optics stared ahead, not seeing anything.

"He found me in the corridor. Seemed upset," Jazz spat out, rubbing the back of his helm. Prowl stared at Jazz a moment too long before he knelt in front of Sunstreaker.

"Sunstreaker?"

Sunstreaker shook his helm. "I don't know what to do," he whispered, the words physically drawn from his soul.

Prowl sighed, looking down. He reached out, resting his hand atop of Sunstreaker's shaking yellow ones. "You have to decide what you want, Sunstreaker. You have to choose to follow your spark. Wherever that leads you."

Sunstreaker's gaze snapped to Prowl's, his expression turning to shock. Prowl held his gaze for a moment, then nodded, squeezed his hand once more, and drew to his feet. "Stay here as long as you need, Sunstreaker." Prowl turned and gestured for Jazz to precede him from his office. Within moments, Sunstreaker was alone once more.

Sunstreaker thunked his helm backwards against the bulkhead, replaying all their arguments, their conversations, and his brother's promises to him. He had to choose. He had to choose what he wanted, what he needed. It was the choice of a lifetime, the choice to define not only his life, but his brother's as well. It was a choice that would end or begin, define or destroy, mend or tear apart. It was the choice for his spark, and for the first time, a choice that was freely his, and his alone. He had to choose.

He had no idea where to begin.

* * *

Sideswipe trudged toward his quarters. He had wallowed through his shift half-there, his processor mired in thoughts and daydreams of his brother. He finally called it quits and left his post before the end of his shift, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He didn't know what this meant. He was terrified to even think about the possibility that it was the end.

Sideswipe paused outside his quarters, heaving a heavy sigh. He didn't want to face the darkness within, the empty isolation. Again, he thought about how closely this must have been to how Sunstreaker had felt for years, and that just made him hate himself all over again. Slowly, he raised his hand to the keypad and unlocked his door.

Sunstreaker waited inside. Slowly, he moved to Sideswipe. His brother was frozen to the spot, watching. Waiting.

"I know what I need," Sunstreaker began, his voice pitched too low and rumbling faintly with static. "And I know what I want." He swallowed, holding his brother's gaze. "I need to not live in the past anymore. I need to get rid of this pain."

Sideswipe's optics flickered, nodding.

"I want to be with you," Sunstreaker added in a whisper. "I want to trust you."

Sideswipe's gears choked in his throat as he fought for control. "Sunstreaker…"

Sunstreaker stepped closer, so close their plating brushed against each other. "Promise me that this is what you want."

Sideswipe nodded. "Promise me you will always _talk_ to me. Tell me what you need. Tell me how you feel."

Sunstreaker nodded as well. Slowly, he lifted his hand, reaching for Sideswipe. He wound his fingers within his brother's, squeezing tight.

Sideswipe turned his helm away, his body shaking. "Is this what you really want? I can't…" He swallowed, offlining his optics. "I don't want to force you."

"You never have," Sunstreaker rumbled.

"Sunstreaker, are you sure? Are you absolutely sure? If we do this, I _can't_ go back to nothing. I can't let you go."

Sunstreaker drew close again, drawing his helm up next to Sideswipe's. Their stroked gently against one another "We won't go back to nothing. Not anymore."

Sideswipe pulled back, shaking. "I'm not good enough for you."

"No, you're not," Sunstreaker rumbled, his lips quirking into a smile. "But you are what I want. You. Our future. Not our past." That was his choice. It was his to choose, to stay or go, to run or to engage, to forgive or to forget.

Sideswipe's arms wound around his brother's shoulders. He knew he was lost. Sunstreaker had him, body and soul, to the depth of his spark, and he always had. He was his brother's.

And now, his brother was his as well. The thought melted his spark as pleasure raced throughout his body, skipping within his lines. This was how it was meant to be.

"What changed?" Sideswipe asked softly.

"I chose us," Sunstreaker answered. "I _choose_ us." It was an ongoing thing, a daily thing, a choice he made to put Sideswipe, his brother, and their future in front of him. The past was the past. It couldn't be changed. The future was theirs, able to be seized and made whole but only if they chose to do so. Sunstreaker had to move, had to break the gear-stopping, spark-crushing agony of inertia that was chaining him back. If he never chose, if he waited for Sideswipe to hurt him, if all he did was live in expectation of agony, then that was all he would reap.

Sideswipe smiled and stared into his brother's perfect, clear optics. Fear, anxiety and despair, emotions he had seen too much these past weeks, and over the past years, were gone. Calmness stared back at him, a resolution, a gaze full of desire and love. It was everything he'd ever wanted, ever desired, ever truly needed. "I choose us, too," he whispered, smiling at his brother. "Forever."

* * *

Prowl frowned as he stared at the chessboard. He was beginning to bitterly regret teaching Sunstreaker how to play. Sunstreaker's smug expression stared back at him, one optic ridge arched high as he prepared to sneer over his victory.

It had been just over a month since Prowl had found Sunstreaker recharging in his office, sprawled out on the floor and looking utterly broken and dejected. He'd been terrified that entire day, uncertain of how and whether the twins could recover from their demons.

The change that had happened overnight had been nearly inexplicable. Sideswipe was smiles and sunshine, back to his cheerful old self, and even though he was still stuck at comms most days, he was deliriously happy and didn't mind the monotony any longer. Sunstreaker was calm, no longer depressively morose, no longer bitterly upset, and he had actually thanked Prowl for his consideration in allowing him the use of his office. Prowl had stared, long and hard, at the yellow twin in disbelief.

Prowl decided to teach Sunstreaker chess after the two of them started working on after action reports for failures in battle strategy and technique throughout the war. Sunstreaker had proved to be an agile and thoughtful helper. Prowl had never before thought to credit Sunstreaker with a logical processor, but as he stared over the chess board and watched his defeat slowly become more certain, he was now bitterly aware of the fact.

Sideswipe sat next to them both, tiling backward in one of the chairs and reading through another of the data pads Ratchet had given him. Sideswipe was near obsessive about gathering information on their sparkling, and he had raided Ratchet's online database for every article, report, and manual ever written. Much of it was in highly detailed mech-medical speak, but he took diligent notes on what he didn't understand and peppered Ratchet with questions at their weekly checkups.

That day, their feeding lines had both been onlined. Ratchet had asked Sideswipe if he wanted to take part in feeding their sparkling, and Sideswipe had eagerly agreed to be a full partner. Ratchet had helped them both unpack the code that would online their feeding lines in advance of the sparkling. The lines would come on in Sunstreaker on their own when he delivered, but it was better to online them early, in case there was a problem. For Sideswipe, he had to be shown how to unpack the coding segment manually, as he wasn't the carrier, and it was a roundabout way to dually feed the sparkling after emergence. This meant that Sideswipe now had to also ingest ore additives with his daily rations, in preparation for their sparkling.

It also meant that it wouldn't be much longer before he arrived.

Prowl frowned and finally moved his piece. Sunstreaker grinned and took Prowl's knight with his rook. "Check," he viciously claimed, smirking wide.

Prowl shook his helm and frowned, pondering his next move.

"Why are you so distracted today, Prowl?" Sunstreaker asked. "I don't normally beat you this quickly."

"You don't normally beat me at all."

"Of course I do."

"Hmph," Prowl grumped, glaring over the board. If he moved his king piece into the easy escape route, he'd be walking right into a trap. Sunstreaker really was good at this. "My processor is occupied."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "Obviously your processor is occupied. Why?"

Prowl finally moved his remaining rook in front of his king but knew it was only a stop gap. Sunstreaker had won. Sunstreaker took his rook, now only a space away from his king. "Check," he proclaimed again. "Now tell. What's your malfunction?" Sunstreaker knew it wasn't anything to do with their work. The review, while long and sometimes dull, was going smoothly.

Prowl sighed deeply and flicked his king over with his finger. It rolled across the board in a slow circle. He didn't know if it was wise to say anything, but then again, he felt like he was going to jump out of his processor if he didn't. "I am asking someone a question tonight."

That got both the twins' full attention. "A _question_?" Sunstreaker drawled, peering at Prowl through slitted optics. Sideswipe lowered his pad and slowly smirked.

"Yes." Prowl promptly decided that speaking was a bad idea and primly began packing up the chess pieces into their box.

"What kinda question, Prowl?" Sideswipe teased, leaning back dangerously in his chair, teetering on the back legs.

Prowl shot him a dirty look. "Forget I said anything."

"Oh, no!" Sunstreaker jeered. Matching mischief played over both twins' faces. "You can't stop there."

"Yeah," Sideswipe chimed in, now totally oblivious to his reading. "C'mon, Prowl, what's going on? Who're you into? I didn't know you were seeing anyone."

"I am not," Prowl replied, fitting the board into the case. "I seek to change that." Watching the twins daily with their new-found relationship had begun to work over a part of Prowl's spark that he had long thought gone. Before the war, he had wanted a life that included a partner, a mate, and a family. It seemed so distant, so foreign and removed from who he was now. Still, his spark reminded him of what they had once yearned for.

"Who is it?" Sunstreaker asked, genuinely interested. Prowl had learned the subtleties of his moods, learned when he was being too sarcastic for his own good, learned when he was tired, grumpy, or not talkative. Learned when he was mischievous, which was different from when he was acting out. Prowl stared at Sunstreaker, sighed, and debated telling either of them. Sideswipe hung on his chair, watching Prowl intently.

"It's Jazz," Prowl finally said, folding his hands over each other.

Sideswipe toppled over backwards, his chair skittering out from beneath him as he jerked in surprise. His legs flew upwards, spreading akimbo as his data pad clattered to the ground next to his helm. Sunstreaker's optics surged in surprise, and his lips parted wordlessly. Sideswipe pushed himself to his knees and stared in disbelief at Prowl, his own expression too similar to Sunstreaker's for comfort.

Prowl inspected his fingers as he sniffed, not appreciating their show of disbelief.

"_Jazz_?" Sideswipe grinned.

"Forget I said anything," Prowl answered, still looking over his hands. He'd need to repaint them soon. He frowned. Should he do that before tonight?

Sunstreaker was slowly grinning at him, an odd curl upward of his lipplates in an almost feral grimace. "We don't have any time to waste.".

Prowl frowned, not following. "Let's get to the washracks," Sunstreaker said, standing. "You've got to look spectacular tonight." Prowl gazed between the two warily. What were they planning? "We might need some paint, too."

Slowly, Prowl stood, his optics slitting as he peered at the twins. Twin expressions of humor and happiness met his gaze, sly smiles and cheery optics. He grumbled, but nodded, and followed Sunstreaker from the Rec Room.

Sideswipe walked ahead with his brother. "Hey Sunny, what are we going to paint our sparkling?"

"Yellow."

"What? He needs some red."

"Yellow. Just yellow."

"Sun-_ny_!" Sideswipe glared at Sunstreaker as Sunstreaker smirked at him.

"How about the Ratchet look? Red aft?"

Sideswipe shook his helm and threw his hands up into the air. "You're impossible," he said with a smile.

Sunstreaker's grin turned soft, then faded to nothing. The glow in his optics remained though. "See you later." Sideswipe smiled wide and nodded, then trotted off toward the Command Deck.

Prowl watched the two of them with a soft smile.

* * *

Jazz slumped low on the Rec Room couch, idly flicking through the channels. It was late, and the Rec Room was empty. Most other mechs were in their quarters or on shift, but Jazz was enjoying the silence and emptiness of the Rec Room at this hour. Not much was on TV, but he still flicked through anyway. It was a comfortable relaxation he was wound in, and Jazz was happy.

Jazz hadn't seen Prowl all day, which was oddly sticking out in his processor. They were friends now, and normally they saw each other at least once during the day in the Rec Room, if not during the duty day as well. He pushed the thought away again. It didn't mean anything. Prowl was a busy mech.

The doors behind him slid open, and the soft footfalls of a single mech entered the Rec Room. Jazz twisted, rolling backwards over the edge of the couch and gazing upside down at who had entered. He grinned when he saw it was one SIC. "Heya, Prowler," he drawled. "How are you doing? Didn't see you much today."

Prowl smiled back and padded behind the couch. His paint gleamed, glistening in the dim lights of the evening Rec Room. He had nearly blinded himself when Sunstreaker presented him with the mirror to inspect his new and improved glossy wax job, a dubious gift of Sunstreaker's. Prowl felt ridiculous. He leaned down, bracing his forearms on the back of the couch as Jazz settled back down. "I'm fine." In truth, he had absolutely wimped out of coming to the Rec Room for his evening ration. He had developed incredibly weak joints and busied himself with schedules and rosters and duty sheets until the time had passed for the evening ration. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Jazz drawled, flicking at the TV once more. "Nothing's on, though." He kicked up his feet, resting them on the low table that in front of the couch, one heel stacked on top of the other. "What are you up to at this hour?"

Prowl froze for a moment, staring at the TV screen. His processor whirled, his prepared speech deserting him. He had faced down Decepticons, Megatron, and the humans at their worst, but _now_ his courage was fleeing for parts unknown? Prowl inhaled deeply, then met Jazz's soft, friendly gaze. Jazz's visor was dim, his lips spread into that small, perpetual smile he always had. Prowl's spark skipped a pulse.

"Prowler?" Jazz asked, smiling. "Ya alright?"

Prowl shook his helm. "I wanted to ask you a question," he began. "There's a fair starting in two weeks, just a few counties over. Their opening night has a cover band headlining. They're doing one of your favorite bands." Prowl swallowed, then pushed forward. "I was wondering if you wanted to go…?" To his dismay, his voice trailed off, rising slightly at the end. He sounded anything but definitive, anything but certain, anything but in control.

Jazz stared at Prowl. His lips fell open in surprise, his visor dimming slightly. "With you?" he asked reflexively.

Prowl's doorwings arched. "Yes," he answered stiffly, holding Jazz's gaze. Jazz remained silent. _This was a horrible idea_, Prowl thought, his tanks sinking.

Jazz frowned as he stared at Prowl. If he had thought six months ago that Prowl was going to ask him out on a date, he'd have booked himself an appointment with Ratchet _post haste_. They were colleagues, nothing more. Sometimes bitterly at odds colleagues. This friendship of theirs had sprung up unannounced, unintended, and unasked for. It had simply happened.

Sideswipe's words echoed through Jazz's processor. They had nothing in common, not command decisions, not tactical plans, not nearly anything. Still… they had one thing in common. One thing above all: they both loved the _Ark_ and the crew. They both gave everything of themselves to this crew. Jazz admired that in Prowl, and he thought Prowl admired it in him.

That was enough to build respect on, now, a friendship on, even, but, anything else? Jazz frowned again, exhaling. He'd never, ever thought about Prowl in that way, in any sort of romantic way. Still, he couldn't deny that he genuinely enjoyed his moments with Prowl, and only a few minutes ago, he'd been lamenting not seeing his friend all day. A few hours of polite conversation within a day did not a relationship make, though. Jazz' s processor bounced back and forth, zipping between thoughts almost too fast.

"Okay," Jazz finally said, breaking the silence. He smiled. "I'd like to go. With you."

Prowl held Jazz's gaze. "Okay," he whispered, nodding.

Jazz smiled, nodding back. He didn't know enough about Prowl to say no outright. The thought of shutting him down before getting to know him sat uneasy in his processor.

Prowl forced his gaze back to the TV as Jazz looked away. They spent the next ten minutes in silence, each focused not at all on the TV but pretending to be entirely wrapped up in the program. Prowl couldn't have even described what he was watching.

Finally, he stood, catching Jazz's attention once more.

"Good night, Jazz." Prowl nodded and turned to leave.

"Night, Prowler," Jazz called, watching the retreating backplates and high-held doorwings of Prowl… his future date.


	13. Chapter 13

**Unintended Thirteen**

* * *

Sunstreaker was uncomfortable.

He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. He was exhausted, as per the norm, as a full half of his energy consumed went to his sparkling now. Recharge was beckoning, but he couldn't relax enough to initiate. He felt heavy, his body overly full. His sparkling was fully-grown now, and he had no more room to move freely. Instead his tiny helm, feet, and hands banged against his tank walls. The reverberations passed through Sunstreaker's internals, and his entire inner body felt bruised. His weight had shifted, and in addition to his energy drain, he was now carrying an extra gross within. It all contributed to his incredible exhaustion, and unfortunately, his incredible discomfort.

He wanted to be through with his carrying.

The closer the time came for his sparkling to emerge, the more confusing his emotions and thoughts became. He wanted to be through with his carrying, but to be through with it, his sparkling would emerge. That was a sometimes-terrifying and always overwhelming thought.

He shifted again, rolling up on his shoulders while leaving his hips flat on the berth. It was only slightly more comfortable, but he couldn't relax at all. He had to work to hold this position. Sunstreaker sighed.

A hand drifted up Sunstreaker's side, wandering over his arm. Sideswipe's lips gently kissed the back of Sunstreaker's helm. "Are you alright, Sunny?"

Sunstreaker glared, though Sideswipe couldn't see it. "No," he snapped. "I can't recharge."

"Let me take care of you," Sideswipe whispered, kissing his brother's helm.

"What are you doing?" Sunstreaker's dry voice broke the silence, his tone letting Sideswipe know he knew exactly what his brother had been up to.

Sideswipe smiled through his kiss. "I'm trying to make you feel better, Sunny," Sideswipe whispered.

Sunstreaker groaned as Sideswipe nipped at his neck cables. "Sides… I don't feel charged up at all."

"That's because I haven't done anything to charge you up yet." Sideswipe grinned.

A long moment. "Fragger," Sunstreaker finally murmured. He rolled over.

* * *

Prowl stood stock still at the _Ark_ entrance, staring out across the slip of desert burning in the setting sunlight. To the outside, he was the picture of calm, a stoic statue standing in silence. Inside, Prowl was reeling. His nerves warred with his trepidation, which warred against his general good sense. He had no idea if this was a good idea, or if this was going to be an immense, massive failures. Within a few hours, he'd know.

He turned, catching the sound of approaching footsteps. He knew Jazz's easy-going gait, and he could pick out Jazz's sounds from the din of the Rec Room and the noise of the _Ark_ at nearly any time. He swallowed, girding himself within, then turned. Prowl smiled as Jazz approached.

This was the night, the night of their first date.

Prowl had no idea if Jazz felt anything at all toward him, or if he thought of this excursion as a date for them as well. His nerves were sky high, and despite Jazz's seemingly entirely unflappable nature, Prowl noticed Jazz withdrawing a bit from the _Ark_ in the last several days. He understood; Prowl had been a walking bundle of jittery fibers and couldn't put up with the normal insanity of the _Ark_ for long. His processor was at war enough with itself. Perhaps that withdrawal meant something? Perhaps Jazz felt as nervous as he was?

Prowl pushed aside his nerves and smiled. Jazz grinned back, slowing to a stop in front of Prowl. "Ready to go?" Prowl asked.

Jazz nodded, silent but still grinning. Prowl transmitted the coordinates to their destination and motioned for Jazz to precede him out of the _Ark_. They dropped into their alt modes and within minutes they were driving away from the _Ark_ and toward the fairgrounds. The drive was silent at first, but Jazz finally commed over and asked Prowl how his day had gone. At first, their normal, every day chit-chat was strained, almost painful around the edges, as if they had forgotten how to talk to each other. That tension was broken when Jazz relayed an amusing gaffe of Bluestreak's to Prowl, and Prowl snorted, completely undignified.

"I'm glad they're getting back to normal," Prowl commed.

"Yeah," Jazz replied. Bluestreak had his moments, but he was trying to get back to his old self. Smokescreen was slowly pulling himself out of his gloom as well, bolstered by Bluestreak's strong friendship. Everything wasn't perfect, and it was still incredibly strained, but the oppressive bitterness was lifting.

Their conversation drifted to Prime, then to the humans, and then suddenly they were there. Prowl guided them both through the entrance and across the dirt-packed, straw-strewn parking lot. People were milling around, all heading into the fairgrounds ahead. It was, all in all, a noisy, dirty affair. Amusement park rides rose ahead of them, neon lights streaking across the flat meadow field. Human cars and trucks were parked in neat rows stretching outward, and even from the distance Prowl and Jazz could still hear the happy rise and fall of excited shouts, the din of electronic music and noise, and the whir of the rides as the humans were spun around. Smells filled the air, mixing with the laughter, a sugary-sweet, buttery scent that drifted in the dusk.

Jazz rose from his alt mode first, smiling wide. "Wow," he said, grinning at Prowl. "I've actually never been to one of these." In all the years they had been on Earth, they had never made it out to one of the yearly fairs in the smaller counties around their locale.

Prowl rose as well, taking in the cacophony of sensations. "The cover band plays in a half an hour. I called ahead, and the fair is expecting us. Let's go in the back entrance."

"Lead on!" Jazz was relaxed and happy now that the tension of before had seemed to vanish. Prowl guided Jazz through the parking lot and circled around the fair grounds, taking them through the back entrance near the outdoor amphitheater. A concrete half-dome sheltered the bandstand, and a small mountain of bleachers rose in front.

One of the fair organizers ran to greet them. "Welcome!" he cried out, genuinely happy to see the Autobots. Relations had improved with the humans. "We'll be underway in about 30 minutes. We've set aside this side-stage area for you two to watch." He guided them to the private viewing area, tucked to the side of the bleachers with a great view of the stage. Prowl glanced at Jazz, hoping it met with his approval. Jazz grinned.

Prowl handed Jazz an energon cube he had brought to pass the time. They drank their cubes and passed idle comments back and forth about the humans milling around them. Prowl's optics nearly fritzed as he saw several of the oddest looking humans he had ever encountered, which sent Jazz into fits of laughter. It became a game for them then, pointing out different humans to each other until the amphitheatre had filled up and the band was ready to begin.

Heavy bass notes sounded, the cover band mimicking the open notes of their 80's inspired rock band legends. They continued, amping up the volume and increasing the tempo until a man in tight glitter pants, no shirt, and bleach-blonde long hair bounded onto the stage. He screamed into the microphone, hollering at the top of his lungs before shouting out the audience, "Are you ready?"

Prowl dissolved into barely-restrained snorts, turning his helm and burying his face behind Jazz's shoulder. Jazz's hand reached over, squeezing his arm as he chuckled along with Prowl. "That's the oddest looking of them all," Prowl stated, straightening behind Jazz after he had control of himself.

"That's what makes it so much fun, though," Jazz drawled, beaming a wide smile at Prowl. Prowl's doorwing's fluttered as he shook his helm, but he couldn't stop the answering smile at Jazz's obvious happiness.

The rock band took the stage, playing blaring set after blaring set. Bass guitar chords mixed with screaming electric guitar riffs, all backed by the pounding of the drums and the screams of the lead singers. The audience was on their feet nearly instantly, jumping and pumping their hands over their heads. Jazz followed, hopping up and down.

"You can't jump!" Prowl shouted, grabbing Jazz's arm. His optics were shimmering with surprised delight, shockingly energized by the concert.

Jazz stared at him, open-mouthed. "What?" He shouted back, not able to hear over the raucous din.

Prowl grinned and shook his helm. "You can't jump, Jazz! You're shaking the whole place!"

"Aww!" Jazz groaned, but finally stopped jumping. He grinned mischievously at Prowl, watching his friend's helm bop and bounce, his red chevron moving in time with the beat. "How about bouncing? Can I bounce?" Prowl nodded. Jazz's visor flashed as he grabbed Prowl's hands. "Ya have to bounce with me!" Prowl gasped, pulled off balance as Jazz tugged him forward. "C'mon on!"

Prowl laughed, his helm thrown backward as he tried to move in time with Jazz's natural, easy-going gyrations. Their hands were clasped between them, their bodies facing each other, and even though his optics were glued to Jazz's hips and legs, he couldn't replicate the smooth movements of his friend. "My hydraulics don't work like yours do!" He shouted, leaning close to Jazz's helm.

"Ya just need practice!" Jazz called back, refusing to let go of Prowl's hands. "Keep it up!"

They bounced together through the next three songs, Jazz effortlessly shifting his movements in time with the beats as Prowl struggled to duplicate Jazz's movements. He finally just gave up and let his gaze wander over Jazz and the crowd, then over to the band. He hadn't known how this would work out, this rock band and public experience, but as he bounced with Jazz by the bleachers, he thought that it probably couldn't have gone any better.

The band's tempo finally shifted, moving away from the punishing beats to something slower, more melodic. The electric guitar took charge, long, winding notes crying over the audience as the tone and mood shifted from the high-energy pulse to something sedate and mysterious. Jazz's gyrations slowed, and he drew closer to Prowl, a soft, easy smile on his face. He wrapped his arms around Prowl's waist, the both of them facing the stage as one. Prowl inhaled, surprised, but kept a hold of Jazz's hands, letting Jazz sway their now joined bodies in time to the slower beat. His helm rested back against Jazz's, their cheeks nearly touching.

The band played for hours, delighting the audience over and over. Jazz continued to bounce and sway, pulling Prowl into the movements with him, smiles plastered over both of their faces. When it finally ended, Prowl felt a pull of sadness. Despite himself, he didn't want the music, or the moment, to end.

Jazz wasn't ready for the evening to end, either. "Wanna stay longer?" His visor was bright, his face open and happy. Prowl nodded, then guided them both out to the main fairgrounds amidst the crush of people and the shouts and hum of the rides. Neon light burst all around them, and the air was filled with activity, energy, and potential. It felt as if anything could happen, and for the moment, Prowl hoped that was right.

They wandered around, taking the sights in and enjoying each other's company. Their shoulders brushed against each other as they moved, pointing out different people and odd rides. Prowl was aghast at the bumper cars. He stared at them, watching the humans ram into each other's vehicles with glee and abandon as Jazz smiled and shook his helm. Jazz finally dragged Prowl away after Prowl began muttering about not using human-shaped targets in the weapons range, and how that was going to change.

Jazz pulled Prowl to the back of the main fairplex, toward a lit, straw-hewn clearing. A smaller band was setting up in the clearing, a local conglomeration of nearby men and woman who played for fun, not fame. Their instruments were different, not augmented by electronics or gear. Guitars, fiddles, trumpets and drums were slowly being pulled out and tuned.

Jazz turned to Prowl as the band started warming up, already falling into the groove of the music. "More dancing, Prowl!" Jazz teased.

"You like this kind of music?" Prowl asked, watching Jazz's body undulate in time.

"I like everything," Jazz said, shaking his helm. "Besides, don't you like the country kind of beats?"

Prowl smiled and nodded his helm once before the band really started to pick up the pace. Jazz was once again dancing away, grooving to the beat. It didn't take long before Jazz pulled Prowl into his moves.

Finally, as the band switched up songs and the small audience was clapping away, Prowl turned to Jazz and leaned close. "Want to dance?" he asked, his optic ridges arched high.

Slowly, Jazz broke into a wide smile. "Sure!" He sauntered out into the clearing, where other couples had already started to dance together. Prowl followed, knowing absolutely everyone's eyes were fixed to him as he took Jazz's hands and pulled him close. The band struck up their next song, nodding toward the Autobots, and off they went.

Jazz led, and the two wound through the crowd to the beats and excited fiddle calls of the band. Humans around them laughed and smiled, pointing at their gyrations and the obvious happiness of the two giant alien robots. Prowl watched them in turn, seeing several couples twirling and spinning in time to the beats and the clapping hands of others watching.

Jazz smiled at Prowl, drawing his attention back. "I wonder what dancing is like for them," Jazz asked, leaning closer to Prowl. "I wonder if it's as fun." Prowl smiled back, nodding. "Or if it's as sensual." Jazz's visor flashed as Prowl's optics ridges arched high. "Ya know, bumpers bumpin', fields cracklin'…" Jazz's grin widened as Prowl swallowed. "Ya alright, Prowler?"

Prowl gathered his wits back into place. "I'm spinning you," he declared, his optics twinkling. "Get ready." Jazz threw his helm back and laughed, but readied himself as Prowl pushed him away and lifted his arm, twirling Jazz beneath their clasped, high-held hands. Prowl pulled the still-laughing Jazz close again, smug in his victory. His doorwings arched high.

The song was drawing to a close, picking up the tempo and beat. Everyone was dancing faster, pulling their bodies closer together. Prowl pulled Jazz into his arms, whispering into his audial.

"No!" Jazz shouted, laughing. "No way!"

Prowl's optics gleamed, his lips curling into a sly smile. The song beat faster and faster, the volume increasing as the fiddle, trumpet, and drums warred against each other. It was all coming to a climax, a loud, noisy and ferocious end. Prowl grinned wide, holding Jazz's disbelieving gaze. The final notes blared, screaming out of the band as Prowl twisted, dipping Jazz down backwards in his arms in a quick movement, holding him bent low as his doorwings flicked high.

Jazz burst out laughing. Prowl smiled down at him, the thrill of the dancing, the energy of the people, the band, and the evening thrumming through him. He hadn't thought before that he, just him, could have brought this smile to Jazz's face.

Slowly, they both straightened, smiles etched across their faces. Jazz shook his helm and moved away from the dancing area, leaning up against the outside of the barn hall for a brief rest.

Prowl followed, embarrassed at his actions. Literally everyone had watched them out there. His doorwings twitched behind his back.

After several minutes, Jazz turned away from watching the humans and reached for Prowl's arm. He gripped it gently, smiling. "This has been great, Prowler. Thank you for asking me to come."

Prowl nodded, smiling through sealed, silent lips. He suddenly didn't know what to say any longer.

"Ready to go?" Jazz asked, tilting his helm. Prowl nodded again, and they both moved off toward the parking lot and prepared to head home. Prowl moved behind Jazz, watching his carefree movements in the moonlight. Jazz twisted around, smiling before he dropped down into his alt mode. Prowl followed suit, and they headed home together in happy, companionable silence.

Halfway there, Prowl's sensor spiked, and the road beneath him shook gently. Jazz piped up over the comm. "What was that, Prowler?"

"An earthquake?" Prowl sensors flared outward, scanning all around. "Confirmed. Tectonic activity near the Portland area."

"Is it bad?"

Prowl frowned. "My sensors aren't able to detect the exact range. It is a large movement, though."

"Bet the _Ark_ has more info."

"Indeed." Prowl sped up, and Jazz pulled in next to Prowl, driving alongside him instead of in front of him. They drove together in silence, racing across the desert at high speeds and their plating nearly touching the rest of the journey.

Prowl's comm pinged as soon as he and Jazz drove into the _Ark_ entrance. He sighed and slowed to a stop, then rose from his alt mode. "Prowl here."

"Sir, we've recorded a large earthquake in the Portland area."

"I am aware of the incident. Any damage to the _Ark_ and crew?"

"No, sir," Hound's voice responded. "But we are getting requests for aid and relief from the humans."

Prowl glanced at Jazz. "Understood," he closed the connection.

Jazz shook his helm. "It's never over." Prowl's optic ridges arched high. "Want me to come up there with ya?" Jazz nodded toward the command deck.

Prowl shook his helm. "No. Go get some rest. I doubt I'll need you up there right now, and it's been a long evening."

"But a fun one," Jazz said softly. "Thank you, Prowler. I really did have a good time." .

Prowl smiled, his optics flicking downward in a sudden show of unusual shyness. "I did as well," he said, equally soft. "I hope we can have fun again sometime."

Jazz nodded. "I'd like that." Their optics met, holding for a brief moment before Prowl straightened and started to move off. Jazz walked next to him until the split, and Prowl turned left for the Command Deck while Jazz headed right for the crew quarters.

"Good night, Jazz," Prowl said before he moved off.

Several steps away he turned back, glancing over his shoulder at Jazz, walking in the opposite direction. Jazz turned as well, and their gazes met. Both broke into small smiles.

As Jazz turned back around, he shook his helm in faint disbelief. He never would have thought, six months ago, that he'd have just had a great date with Prowl, of all mechs.

Prowl sighed, a happy, contented sigh, and floated the rest of the way to the Command Deck.

* * *

Sideswipe was roused from deep within his recharge by the beeping of his comm. He struggled to online his optics, careful to not wake his brother. Sunstreaker was plastered to his side, his helm buried in Sideswipe's neck. Sideswipe rolled his helm away. "Sideswipe."

"Sorry to wake you, Sideswipe," Prowl's voice, ever-professional, sounded through his comm link. "There's been a large earthquake near Portland. Several buildings have collapsed in the city, and there are trapped humans buried in the rubble. They are requesting immediate assistance and I am dispatching a rescue team immediately."

Sideswipe sighed. "Let me guess; I'm on the team?"

"You are indeed." Prowl paused. "You are joining Hound, First Aid, Brawn, Beachcomber, Hot Spot, Blades, and Bumblebee. I expect everything to go smoothly." Prowl's team was chosen carefully, a balance of strength, tracking, and aide. It was also designed to keep potential rifts at a minimum.

Sideswipe sighed, hoping he wouldn't have a run-in with any mech. He was still held at arms' length from the crew. It didn't bother him so much anymore, not since he and Sunstreaker were back together and Prowl and Jazz had become real friends to them both. "Understood," he replied over the comm. "I'll be ready in five." He closed the comm and sighed again, rolling back to wrap himself around his brother's warm, recharging body. He spared himself a brief moment of luxurious relaxation, holding his brother close and basking in his warmth before carefully extracting himself from around Sunstreaker.

Much later that morning, Sunstreaker finally pulled himself from recharge. He was groggy, stiff, and instantly irritated that he was onlining alone. He found a note from Sideswipe propped up on the berthside table next to his cube and ore additives a minute later. That helped his irritation but did nothing for the residual exhaustion and soreness.

Sunstreaker sighed and slowly pushed himself to his feet. His body felt odd, sore and disjointed, and he was more exhausted than usual. His hip joints protested his standing, and the stiffness moved up his backstruts. An odd sensation was settling in his body, a mixture of fluttering heaviness that he attributed to the night before.

Sunstreaker mixed his cube and headed out of his quarters. Each sip was hard to take, and the mixture settled uneasily within his tanks. He frowned, his mood darkening from its already frustrated beginning. A scowl settled over his already grim and tired features, and Sunstreaker trudged through the _Ark_, heading for Prowl's office.

Prowl arched his optic ridges high when Sunstreaker buzzed his way in. The yellow twin looked awful.

Sunstreaker sipped at his cube, frowned and spat out a short, terse question. "Heard anything from the rescue team?"

Prowl's glance lingered on Sunstreaker. It had been a long night, coordinating the rescue and sending out the relief team, but even Prowl looked better than Sunstreaker. "Yes," Prowl finally said. "They are working through the city. So far they've rescued 150 humans, all alive and well." Prowl logged off his terminal and stood. "Sideswipe is doing just fine. He's working with Hot Spot to secure the collapsed buildings."

Sunstreaker sighed, but lost some of his frustration. At least Sideswipe was alright. He nodded and waited for Prowl.

"I will need you to fill in for Sideswipe at comms today, Sunstreaker. Let's get up to the Command Deck." Prowl led the way out of the office, Sunstreaker falling into place behind him. They moved through the _Ark_ together in silence, Prowl multitasking on his data pad as they walked, and Sunstreaker trying to force his morning energon into his systems. He could only manage tiny sips at a time, then was forced to wait for his tanks to calm once more.

Finally, they reached the Command Deck. Sunstreaker could hear the unusually loud din of happy chatter as they approached. As per usual, as soon as they both walked onto the deck, the chatter died immediately and all optics snapped to both of them. Sunstreaker's scowl returned full force, and he stalked his way across the deck to the comms station.

Mirage sat at the terminal next to comms, providing back up support for ops while the rescue party was away. He followed Sunstreaker as the yellow twin collapsed in front of the comms station. Sunstreaker set his cube down and pushed it aside, done with the offending mixture for the morning. Mirage's optics lingered on Sunstreaker.

"What?" Sunstreaker snapped.

Mirage shook his helm, looking away. His optics slid across the deck, landing on Prowl.

Prowl had moved to the central Teletraan terminal, next to Ironhide, and was receiving the morning brief from the grouchy weapons specialist. Prowl listened to Ironhide and slowly became aware of optics firmly fixed on his body. His armor was crawling. Slowly, Prowl's helm swiveled, staring at the mechs on deck. They all instantly seemed to be preoccupied with their terminals.

When he turned back around to Ironhide, the weapons specialist was grinning wide, a sly glint to his optics. Ironhide unfolded his arms, pulling out a previously hidden data pad, and passed it over to Prowl, not saying a word. Prowl held his gaze suspiciously before onlining the pad.

_The Next Robot Parents?_ screamed out at Prowl, the headline to a tawdry tabloid on sale that morning. A full color photo of Prowl, dancing and grinning happily with a dancing and dipped Jazz, also smiling and laughing, graced the cover of the tabloid's front page. It was all displayed for Prowl's viewing pleasure on the data pad's screen, and, Prowl suspected, on the terminals and monitors of nearly every mech on board. Ironhide grinned at Prowl as Prowl arched his optic ridge silently, fixing his steely glare on the red mech.

Jazz chose that moment to saunter in, relaxed and carefree as ever. Instantly, all the mechs' gazes shot to him as well, the electric hum of hushed smiles and anticipation burning through the deck. Jazz, ever aware of the subtleties as Prowl was not, noticed the shift in attitude immediately. His gait slowed, his visor glancing around the deck in confusion. Ironhide smiled wide, entirely too smug for that early in the morning.

Jazz stopped next to Prowl, still glaring at Ironhide's cheery visage. "What's up?" Jazz asked innocently.

Prowl silently handed over the offending data pad, holding Ironhide's gaze. He wasn't entirely sure how Jazz would respond. They hadn't discussed what they were doing, whether it was date or not, or whether they were dating or not, and neither one of them, with the exception of Prowl's brief slip to the twins weeks before, had mentioned anything about each other to the crew at large.

"Huh," Jazz said, peering at the data pad. He shifted it, as if inspecting it in the light, and rotated it around before pulling it close to his visor. The Command Deck stilled, waiting for his reaction. Not a mech had ever thought that Jazz would date Prowl, but the evidence was before them in pure Technicolor glory. Even Sunstreaker was watching now, pulled into the spectacle of the event by the tension around him. For once, he wasn't the center of everyone's attention.

"What's going on?" Sunstreaker grunted at Mirage, frowning.

"Prowl and Jazz. They went on a date last night. The human press captured the whole thing." Mirage's optics twinkled, his own smile brightening in a sly, sneaky way.

"How'd it go?" Sunstreaker asked, darting a glance toward Prowl and Jazz in the center of the deck.

"Seems to have gone well." Mirage passed over his own data pad, the same headline and glossy photo displayed for Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker grunted a small burst of laughter, smiling at the picture. He looked back up at Mirage, sharing his brief look of mischief for a moment.

Jazz handed the data pad back to Prowl, frowning. "When did I get that paint scuff on my back?" He turned to Prowl, an entirely too-innocent expression on his face. A tiny, teasing smile played at the edges of his lips, and only Prowl could see it. Jazz twisted around, trying to see his lower back. "I'll have to go buff that out later." He turned and moved off, heading for the main viewscreen.

"You're so full of slag, Jazz!" Ironhide called out, his gruff voice teasing. "You can't wiggle out of this!"

Jazz turned and smirked over his shoulder before leaning down next to Red Alert. Ironhide scoffed and turned back to Prowl, who wordlessly handed the data pad to the weapons specialist. Ironhide smirked as he accepted it, not flinching at Prowl's icy glare.

Sunstreaker and Mirage shared another small smirk before they both remembered that they were bitterly angry at each other and weren't speaking. Mirage frowned and looked away as Sunstreaker grimaced and turned wordlessly back to the comms board. For a moment, it almost felt like the old times.

Sunstreaker frowned as he plugged into the comms board. The distraction had helped take his mind off of his churning tanks, but now that that had passed, his body discomfort was once again at the forefront of his processor.

* * *

Sideswipe stretched, trying to fight off his exhaustion. The rescue work was going well, but it was long, arduous, and he hadn't truly gotten a night of recharge. "I've got to grab more energon," he called out, moving to the storage container their team had staged nearby to help track and rescue any humans they found.

Hound turned and stared at Sideswipe, one optic ridge arched. "You okay?"

Sideswipe smiled as he pulled out a cube. He kept a supply of additives with him in his subspace at all times, and he pulled out one of the small tubules and added it into his cube without thinking. "Yeah," he said tiredly, sipping at the energon. It helped to give his systems a zing, a pep to their sluggish movements. "I didn't get a lot of recharge last night."

Hound froze, watching the energon shift colors. He turned away.

"Sorry," Sideswipe muttered. The crew wasn't used to him preparing to be a parent, and taking in the fortified energon was clear sign he was preparing to care for his sparkling.

The comm crackled to life, an alert sent to the channel the entire rescue team was using to coordinate actions between themselves and the _Ark_. Mirage's voice broke over the comm.

"_Ark_ to Sideswipe."

Sideswipe frowned. Hound and Hot Spot turned back around, staring at the red twin, and even Blades moved closer from his above-ground hover. "What is it?"

"It's Sunstreaker."

* * *

Sunstreaker's morning had gone from bad to worse. His discomfort had blossomed, spreading throughout his entire lower body. He couldn't drink any of his energon. He had nearly purged when he tried one more sip. His temperature was climbing, his engine whining, and he kept breathing deeper, trying to force his body and his engine to cool and calm.

Mirage was closest to Sunstreaker and kept staring at him. Sunstreaker glared at him in the beginning, but eventually became so consumed with his own discomfort that he didn't even notice Mirage's stares and wide-optic'd looks. Finally, Sunstreaker pitched forward, burying his helm in his hands as he groaned. All he could think about was the pain and pressure burning his body.

Mirage reached out, almost touching Sunstreaker's shoulders. "Sunstreaker? What's wrong?" Sunstreaker didn't respond to Mirage, either his words or his near-touch. He groaned again, inhaling shakily.

"Prowl!" Mirage had had enough. He called out across the Command Deck as he rose from his station and knelt next to Sunstreaker. "Sir, we've got a situation over here."

Prowl's whirled around, fixating on Sunstreaker's hunched over body. He tore across the decking, sliding to a stop behind Sunstreaker in time to hear another of the yellow twin's groans. Sunstreaker shuddered, hissing through his clenched denta. "Sunstreaker?"

"Something's wrong," Sunstreaker grunted, forcing himself to straighten. "Ratchet…"

Prowl nodded quickly. "Let's get you down there now." Sunstreaker groaned again, and Prowl felt the first tell-tale tingle of an electrical burst crawl over Sunstreaker's armor. His optics flashed. "Sunstreaker! Your sparkling is emerging. Right now!"

"What?" Sunstreaker's helm shot up, glaring at Prowl. His optics briefly took in the rest of the crew, staring in dead silence/ For once, he didn't care.

"You're reproductive tank is conducting the current to push out your sparkling. When did your sparks separate?" Prowl stared into Sunstreaker's confused gaze.

Tinges of fright outlined Sunstreaker's optics. A fresh round of current shot through his tank, crawling throughout his lower body and shocking his systems. He hissed, doubling over in pain as his engine revved hard.

Prowl pulled Sunstreaker close, tossing one of the twin's arms over his shoulders and supporting as much of his body weight as he could. He opened a comm to the medbay, shouting to Ratchet that he was bringing Sunstreaker down to him, and that it was time. Sunstreaker breathed heavily, slight shakes and electrical current dancing through his body and frame from the sequential jolts shocking out of his reproductive tank.

"Sideswipe," Sunstreaker choked out through gritted denta. "I need him here."

"Get Sideswipe back to the _Ark_," Prowl hollered over his shoulder as he guided Sunstreaker off the Command Deck. They had become a spectacle, and not a single mech had moved a micron since Sunstreaker had doubled over, too frozen in shock. "Now!"

* * *

Sideswipe took three seconds to listen to Mirage's low voice tell him that his brother was on the way to the medbay and that their sparkling was emerging before he flew into a frenzy of chaotic action. He dropped his cube, letting it fall to the ground before dropping into his alt mode. How could this happen _now_?

"Sides!" Hound hollered after him as he burst away from the rescue group, squealing his tires and sending up a bitter cloud of burnt rubber smoke. "Be careful!"

Sideswipe didn't want to be careful. He wanted to be at the _Ark_. He wanted to be with Sunstreaker. He wanted to set a new land speed record on Earth.

Back on the _Ark's_ command deck, Red Alert frowned, glaring at Mirage at the comms station. He plugged himself into the comms feed over Mirage's shoulder, then broadcast on the local wide-band law enforcement frequency, a privileged frequency they were invited to be a part of.

"Autobots to Police and Sheriffs officers in the local area, respond." A chorus of affirmatives rang through the channel. "We have an Autobot returning to the _Ark_ for a personal matter. He will be driving fast and reckless. Please provide escort or clear the highways of civillians."

There was a moment of silence before a single voice called back through the radio, "Is it a red Lamborghini?"

Red Alert sighed, imagining the disaster Sideswipe was creating on the highways. "Yes, that's him."

"We're not going to be able to provide an escort for him unless we call the Air Force and scramble some fighter jets. We'll put out a call to clear a path to ya'll though. Thanks for the heads up! That could have made for an interesting police chase!"

Sideswipe watched in horror as flashing lights and sirens clicked on in the distance ahead of him. There wasn't anything that would stop him from racing back to the _Ark_, but he _knew _how dangerous and displeasing it was to everyone when the humans' authority and legitimacy was flouted. Things were just starting to get better with the humans, and he didn't want to be the cause of a breakdown in their relationship, _again_. But he couldn't stop. He just couldn't stop.

His comm crackled to life. _"Autobot, we're clearing a lane for you to the boundary of your territory. Keep to the left! Stay in your lane!"_

Sideswipe didn't think he could push himself to drive any faster, but as soon as he heard that he had a free and clear path back to the _Ark_ and that the humans were going to help him get to Sunstreaker, his engine revved hard, his systems jumping, and he pushed another burst of speed from his systems. Sideswipe blazed past the first check of police cars, racing through their cleared lane in a red streak. "Thank you!" he hollered behind him, his voice overpowering all loudspeakers the police used. He tried to gun it ever faster. _Hang on, Sunny, I'm coming._

* * *

Sunstreaker leaned heavily on Prowl's shoulders as they waited for the _Ark_'s lift to climb to the Command Deck. Prowl was in full contact with Sunstreaker's plating, and he could feel each and every one of the electric burst crawling over Sunstreaker's plating. They were an off-wash of the surge of potent charge conducting out of his reproductive tank, trying to force his sparkling down and out of the tank and into his valve.

"How long have you been feeling like this, Sunstreaker?" Prowl asked as another streak of current scratched over his plating.

Sunstreaker hissed, contorted in frustrated pain. "Since I onlined," he ground out through gritted denta. "It's gotten much worse."

The lift finally arrived, and Prowl helped move Sunstreaker in, leaning back against the railing. Prowl frowned, trying to puzzle through the timing when Sunstreaker suddenly cried out, a guttural groan of agony. He doubled over, nearly taking Prowl to the decking, and his hand flew to his sideseam.

"Sunstreaker!" Prowl staggered, trying to help support the collapsing twin. He hauled Sunstreaker up, taking more of his weight onto his shoulders and threw Sunstreaker's other arm around him. They were in a face-to-face bear hug. Sunstreaker normally stood a head taller than Prowl, but in his agonized state, he was hunched over enough that they were level.

"Sideswipe…" Sunstreaker moaned. "Where is he?"

"He's on his way."

"No…" Sunstreaker moaned. "Something's wrong. I need him now."

"Nothing's wrong, Sunstreaker." Prowl's hands gripped the yellow twin's shoulders, praying that he was right. "Nothing's wrong," he repeated, trying to calm Sunstreaker. "Your sparkling is coming, that's all. It's normal."

"I can't do this without him." Sunstreaker moaned again, his plating flaring with another electrical seizure.

The lift finally stopped, the short ride down several decks seemingly taking forever. Sunstreaker was shaking like a leaf, trembling and hanging around Prowl's shoulders and nearly leaning his entire weight on him. The lift doors split open, revealing Wheeljack waiting for them both. Wheeljack's optics flared as he took in the unusual sight. Sunstreaker was one of their toughest mechs, and seeing him doubled over, hanging off of Prowl, trembling and near falling apart, was overwhelming.

Wheeljack grabbed Sunstreaker's arm, slowly spinning him around and helping Prowl to support the yellow twin. Wheeljack's armor crawled, flaring with the conduction of electricity over Sunstreaker's body. "Wow, Sunny, you're pretty far along."

Sunstreaker forced a bitter glare down to Wheeljack, then hissed as they three of them started moving as quick as they could down the corridor to the medbay. "Ratchet's setting up," Wheeljack amended, trying to help Sunstreaker's obvious discomfort.

Together the three of them limped down the corridor, the two smaller mechs supporting a majority of Sunstreaker's agonizing weight. Halfway there he doubled over again, his legs weakening and nearly dropping out from beneath him as he gasped. He stopped breathing, his engine surged, and the electrical current again spiked throughout his body. Prowl and Wheeljack staggered, struggling to keep Sunstreaker on his feet.

"We've got to hurry," Wheeljack muttered, flashing a concerned glance to Prowl.

"Where's Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker moaned again, burning an over-bright glare into Prowl's gaze. "Where is he?"

"He's on his way," Prowl answered as he and Wheeljack tried to hurry Sunstreaker into the medbay. They could see the door. "He's on his way, Sunstreaker."

Finally, they reached the medbay. Ratchet was a flurry of activity, grabbing instruments, monitors and bags of energon. He whirled around, ready to meet the incoming group, but stopped in his tracks. His optics flared as his mouth dropped open. "Slagging Pit, Prowl!" Ratchet hollered, running to their side. "You didn't tell me he was this far in!"

"I didn't know." Prowl shifted to the side as Ratchet took over, carrying a fuller burden of Sunstreaker's weight than Prowl had been able to do. "He nearly collapsed on the command deck."

Ratchet motioned for Wheeljack to help him move Sunstreaker over to the medberth he had started to set up. "What happened, Sunny? You were supposed to come here _immediately_ after your sparks separated!"

Sunstreaker slumped onto the berth surface, trying to catch his breath. His plating was crawling with energy, and his lower abdomen was wrenching itself apart. "I didn't know they had," he ground out through gritted denta.

"You didn't _know?_" Ratchet asked incredulously. "How could you not know?"

"I was _distracted_," Sunstreaker ground out again, his voice dropping as his pain surged once more.

"By _what_?" Ratchet onlined the medberth's terminal and plugged his sensor leads into the outputs, then turned to Sunstreaker. With a few deft twists at Sunstreaker's side seams, he planted the sensors under his plating and within his protoform.

Sunstreaker panted, leaning forward and burying his face in the medberth's surface. Prowl stood off to one side, awkwardly fidgeting as he stared. Wheeljack had disappeared to the far side of the medbay, gathering the rest of the tools and supplies Ratchet would need.

"How could you _possibly_ miss your sparks separating?" Ratchet glared at Sunstreaker, waiting for the terminal readouts.

"I _thought_," Sunstreaker hissed, thinking back to the night prior. "That it was something _else_." He glared back at Ratchet.

Ratchet rolled his optics. "That's what got you into this slagging mess," Ratchet growled.

"Make it stop, Ratchet!" Sunstreaker bellowed, groaning through another round of electrical surges as he buried his forehelm against the medberth. "Just make it stop!"

The terminal wailed, a high-pitched whine that caught all of their attention. Ratchet whirled around. "Slag," he breathed.

"What?" Prowl's doorwing's arched higher, nearly straight up on his backplates with his wingtips touching.

Ratchet turned back around to face Sunstreaker, squaring his shoulders. "Sunstreaker, your sparkling is coming, _right now_."

"What?" Sunstreaker yelped.

"Your sparkling is moving through your reproductive tank's seal." Ratchet gestured back to the terminal and its incomprehensible readout. Sunstreaker glared at the display, then back to Ratchet. Ratchet ignored him and grasped Sunstreaker's shoulders and tried to maneuver him around, trying to get him to stand and lean back against the foot of the medberth in preparations for the emergence. "We have to get you into position. He's coming, now."

"No!" Sunstreaker tried to push Ratchet's hands away. "Not without Sideswipe! Not with out him here!"

"Sunstreaker, this is happening _now_, whether Sideswipe is here or not!" Ratchet grabbed Sunstreaker's shoulders and forced him to turn around. "You need to stand up, lean back against the medberth. You can't lie down, or else your body will slow the process down."

Sunstreaker immediately tried to lay down on the medberth, trying to crawl his way onto the surface as he doubled over once more, hissing in agony.

"Sunstreaker!" Ratchet snapped. "We can't stop this!"

Sunstreaker grimaced, moaning under his breath, but finally pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. He turned, leaning back against the base of the medberth and leaning his weight behind him, bracing himself on exhausted and shaking hands and forearms. Prowl hovered next to the yellow twin, nervous and wide-optic'd.

Ratchet's optics snapped to Prowl. "Get up on the berth behind Sunny, Prowl." Prowl blanched. "Sideswipe isn't here. I need you to fill in. Get up on the berth behind Sunstreaker and kneel down. You're going to help brace him from behind."

Prowl froze, but after Ratchet's sharp command of "Move," Prowl clambered up to the medberth behind Sunstreaker.

Wheeljack finally reemerged, wheeling messy and overflowing carts of blankets, towels, fluids, and tools over to their berth.

Ratchet knelt down before Sunstreaker and gently pushed his legs apart. Sunstreaker scrapped his feet across the decking petulantly, his hands grabbing the medberth behind him with a fierce, shaking grip. "Ratchet," he hissed. "Kill this pain already! Make it stop!" The pain was intolerable, even for Sunstreaker.

Ratchet turned his steely gaze upwards. "I can't, Sunstreaker. You're too far along. If I were to spike you know, you wouldn't be able to control your body, and the sparkling could be damaged."

The pain had a purpose. Sunstreaker had to be able to feel his body's workings and to work with the electrical seizures and pulses. It was how he was going to have to work to push out his sparkling. If it had been earlier on, Ratchet could have spiked him with blissful pain sensor deadeners and they could have gone through the entire emergence basing Sunstreaker's actions off of the monitors and the terminal readouts. He could have been told when and what to do, and when to push or hold. Now, though, with his sparkling half in his tank and half out, any pain sensor deadeners would choke his systems, and the potential for the sparkling to be stuck or injured, or worse, was too great.

Ratchet continued. "We're going to have to do this with the pain."

Sunstreaker had been thinking of nothing else but Ratchet's ability to take away the pain all morning. He shuddered, groaning.

"Open your panel, Sunstreaker," Ratchet commanded instead, dropping his voice back into its customary snappy attitude.

Sunstreaker let his helm flop backward, resting against Prowl's shoulder. His hands grabbed at Prowl's, squeezing down impossibly hard.

"That's it, Sunstreaker, push with the current." Ratchet waited for the conduction to pass before he turned to the monitor to check the sparkling's progress. Sunstreaker's job was to push, clenching with his abdominal cables down onto his valve to help push the sparkling out. He couldn't do anything to help speed up the process when the sparkling was still within the tank, but now that he was moving out, Sunstreaker needed to start pushing him further down. "You need to push, Sunstreaker. Push with the current."

Sunstreaker groaned as his helm lolled on Prowl's shoulder. Prowl kept his hands entangled with Sunstreaker's, his chest supporting the broad shoulders of the yellow twin as he balanced on his knees. "Not without Sideswipe," Sunstreaker gasped. "He's supposed to be here."

"We can't wait for Sideswipe, not anymore."

"No, no, I need him here," Sunstreaker groaned, another current pushing through his body.

"Push, Sunstreaker!"

"No!" Sunstreaker fought his body, trying to hold back what it was desperate to do. "I need Sideswipe!" His deep plea was cut off by a guttural scream, forcing itself out of his vocalizer. His sparkling moved the final bit out of his tank, pushing itself through the top seal and fully into his valve. The pressure was immense, the pain and stretching nearly unbearable. Sunstreaker bellowed.

* * *

Jazz left the Command Deck shortly after Ironhide's incident with the data pad, escaping out of the _Ark_ to run a simple patrol in the western quadrant. He was trying to clear his helm and puzzle through how he felt about the night before.

Jazz became aware of _something_ going drastically wrong when the ground _vibrated_ beneath him, and the roar of an approaching engine burst over his audials. A dust cloud bloomed, obscuring a huge swatch of the horizon, and for an instant, Jazz thought he was about to face Bruticus himself.

Sideswipe's ident code pinged on his radar, finally, and Sideswipe blew past him, practically flying through the air at the speeds he was forcing from his body.

Something was going on, and if Jazz was any sort of intelligence officer, he'd bet his commission that that something had to do with Sunstreaker. Jazz turned and followed Sideswipe back to the _Ark_, albeit at a slower and sane pace.

* * *

Furious and rapid pounding on the medbay door interrupted Sunstreaker's guttural shrieking. Sideswipe's frantic voice sounded from the other side of the sealed doors. "Sunny! I'm here! Ratchet! Let me in! I'm here! I'm here!"

"Doors!" Ratchet shouted, and the medbay doors unlocked and released, admitting Sideswipe into the medbay. He raced in, scraping himself through the doors as soon as they were barely wide enough for him to fit.

"Sunny!" Sideswipe screeched to a halt, taking in the cacophony of activity in front of him: Sunstreaker leaning back in a perch against his medberth and resting against Prowl, their hands intertwined and helms leaning together. Ratchet kneeling before his brother. Wires and cables extending from Sunstreaker's sideseams to the medberth terminal, flashing colors and shapes in patterns known only to Ratchet. Wheeljack hovering nearby. Prowl's wide, frantic optics staring over Sunstreaker's shoulder.

Sunstreaker's optics flashed. Pain colored his emotions. "Sideswipe!" he hollered bitterly, his deep voice booming throughout the medbay. "You Pit-spawned pile of rusting slag! Where have you been?" His furious shout trailed off into another harsh groan, his helm rolling back against Prowl's shoulder as another burst of current racked his systems. Prowl's hands clamped down in response to Sunstreaker. He turned his face towards Sunstreaker's, trying to speak soft words to the yellow twin.

Sideswipe unglued himself from the deck and raced to his brother's side. Sunstreaker was breathing out, exhaling deeply as the current passed, and he turned to Sideswipe with all traces of bitterness and anger gone. "It hurts," he breathed, only letting his infamously tough exterior down in the presence of his brother. "I changed my mind. I don't want to do this. I don't want a sparkling."

"It's a little bit late for that, Sunny," Ratchet grunted. He frowned, staring at the medberth terminal.

Sideswipe leaned close, twining his fingers where Prowl's had been. He leaned their helms together. "Sunny," he whispered. "You can do this. I know you can." He pressed their helms together, holding his brother's worried, pain-filled gaze. "I'm so proud of you."

Sunstreaker's breaths came in ragged, shaky pants, but he nodded unsteadily and gripped down on Sideswipe's hand.

"Alright Sunny, here comes another burst. You need to push, push him down with those ab cables." One of Sunstreaker's ab cables was nearly as big as Bumblebee's arm. "Push him down and keep him down. Don't let him slide back up."

Sunstreaker's optics burned into Sideswipe's, his anxiety, pain, and fear laid bare for his brother to see. Sideswipe wrapped one arm around Sunstreaker's helm and forehelm pushed against his brother's, their breaths mingling together. "I'm so proud of you. We're going to do this together. Together." Sideswipe held Sunstreaker's gaze as the burst of current flared to life once more.

Sunstreaker cried out, but buried his face against Sideswipe's, shaking and trembling in his grasp. Prowl gripped onto Sunstreaker's shoulders, trying to provide what little comfort he could. Sideswipe continued to whisper into Sunstreaker's audial, their faces tucked together, intimate words in an intimate embrace. Sunstreaker pushed, working with his body's efforts and gathering his strength from Sideswipe's arms and words.

"That's it, Sunny!" Ratchet cried out, watching the monitor's feed. "Keep going, keep going!" The burst of current ended, and Sunstreaker weakened, relaxing backwards against Prowl. "Great job, Sunstreaker," Ratchet called out again. "A few more pushes like that and we'll have a sparkling."

Sideswipe beamed at Sunstreaker, rubbing at his cheek and dermal plating with one hand. "I'm so proud of you," Sideswipe whispered again, then dropped a light kiss to his brother's helm.

Ratchet shifted between Sunstreaker's legs, changing his angle and turning his full attention to the yellow twin's valve. "Alright I can see his helm. He's ready to emerge." Ratchet flicked a quick gaze upwards, meeting Sunstreaker's tired and overwhelmed pair of optics. "Push, Sunny. Push hard. Push with your whole body."

Sunstreaker nodded, swallowing. Wheeljack chanced a look over Ratchet's shoulder, trying to see what was happening. He instantly regretted his actions and turned away.

"Another burst is coming shortly," Ratchet called out. "Sideswipe, I want you down here with me. Prowl, keep doing what you're doing. Sunstreaker, I need you to push and to breathe. Keep your engine down. I don't want your pressure to go any higher, and you need to keep your systems calm. Got it?"

Sunstreaker nodded, but flashed a worried glance to Sideswipe. He wanted his brother there, right there, with him during this. Sideswipe smiled softly back at him. "I'm right here, Sunny. I'm right here. I'm going to be there with our sparkling." He handed Sunstreaker's trembling hands back to Prowl, lacing their fingers together. Sideswipe noticed streaks of yellow paint ground into Prowl's digits and seams, testament to how hard they gripped each other's hands. "I love you," Sideswipe whispered as they parted. "I am so proud of you."

"Alright, everyone get ready!" Ratchet shifted, making room for Sideswipe by his side. "Just a few seconds, Sunny. And… Push!" Ratchet called out his instructions in time to the monitor, indicating the ebb and flow of current through Sunstreaker's tank and valve. Sunstreaker cried out, arching backwards against Prowl and squeezing down. His abdominal cables clenched, pushing against his valve and bearing down on his sparkling's body.

Sideswipe watched, barely breathing. His sparkling's helm, a dark, formless shape, was pushing its way out of Sunstreaker's body. From nothing, from Sunstreaker's body and the spaces within, they had created a life, brought to life a new being out of nothing more than their love for one another.

"Keep pushing, keep pushing!" Ratchet's voice cried out from somewhere far away. Sunstreaker was gasping, struggling to breathe, though Prowl's hands and voice were anchoring him down. Prowl's soft voice was whispering in his audial, reminders to breathe and to hold on, and their hands were clenched too tightly together.

"Sideswipe, bring your hands up. Here, here." Ratchet motioned quickly for Sideswipe. Ratchet pushed, applying counter pressure and helping to ease the struggle of the sparkling's helm as he finally, perfectly, pushed himself out of Sunstreaker's body.

Sunstreaker gasped, choking out a deep, hoarse shout. Sideswipe stopped breathing altogether, his hands catching on the slippery body of his sparkling as it slid from his brother's body. Tiny arms and legs, the base protoform with only simple plating covering his sensitive internals, flailed, free of the constraints of Sunstreaker's inner body.

Ratchet grabbed behind him as Wheeljack hastily passed the suction. Ratchet turned and placed it into the sparkling's mouth and nose, sucking out the reproductive electrolyte fluid that had sustained and built his body. Suction pulled from within, sucking out of his engine parts and from within spaces held steady as he assembled and grew within Sunstreaker. Air replaced it, sliding in and filling the sparkling's vents before igniting his engine. His engine sparked, turning over once before firing up for the first time, flaring to his tiny, infant life. As more air was sucked in and the vents began to work, his vocalizer onlined. Their sparkling began to cry.

His world was suddenly a wild and weird experience. He had gone from a world of peaceful serenity, a warm, content, and quiet environment to a world of brightness and noise.

Sideswipe gasped as his sparkling came to life within his hands, his engine online, vents and breaths beginning, and optics slowly brightening online. His arms and legs pumped, waving in the air as if searching for meaning or grip. Sideswipe couldn't think, couldn't process, and all he could do was stare at the tiny, perfect life in his hands.

"Sides…" Sunstreaker's trembling voice called down. Sideswipe looked up, staring into his brother's wondrous, indescribable expression. Sunstreaker's optics were fixated on their sparkling, his mouth fallen open. Behind him, Prowl stared as well, hitched up on his knees over Sunstreaker's shoulders. Ratchet continued to work at Sunstreaker, still focused on his first patient.

Wheeljack dropped down next to Sideswipe, a mountain of blankets and towels in his arms. His audial fins flashed as he began to dry off the tiny sparkling's body, rubbing and drying at his arms and legs, then over his body. Sideswipe helped, rubbing the cloths over his scrunched up face and tiny features. His tiny optics were still dim, still underpowered. Slowly, as he was dried off and warmed up, his cries began to lessen.

"He needs to keep warm," Wheeljack finally choked out, helping Sideswipe to wrap several blankets under and around his body. "He's going to lose a lot of his engine warmth. He can't regulate his temperature yet."

Sideswipe listened faintly, still rubbing at his sparkling's body as he cradled him close. Slowly he stood, moving to Sunstreaker's side, his gaze permanently fixed on their sparkling's perfect features. "Sunny…" Sideswipe breathed. "He's here…."

Sunstreaker wordlessly, soundlessly reached out. A deeper drive was propelling him, his sparks primal need to reconnect with his creation. All the past, all the pain, all the screaming, all the discomfort, melted away in an instant, and he stared down into the fragile face of the sparkling he had created.

Their sparkling's optics rolled to Sunstreaker's features, and for the first time, the energy field that he had always known as safety, comfort, and home was given a face. He stared upward, memorizing and detailing every micron of Sunstreaker, flaring his tiny energy field in synch with Sunstreaker's.

Prowl gasped behind Sunstreaker, squeezing down on his shoulders. "Primus…" Prowl breathed. "He's gorgeous…" Tiny hands and feet settled into his nest of dry and warm blankets. His tiny helm turned, nuzzling his scrunched faceplates against the blankets. His little mouth opened, gasping softly.

Sunstreaker raised one hand, stroking it down his sparkling's helm, cheek, and upper body. Sideswipe reached out, cupping their sparkling's helm before dropping a tender kiss to his plating. He turned, gazing into Sunstreaker's awe-struck features and beamed a brilliant, perfect smile to his brother. "Sunny… we did it!" Slowly, Sunstreaker smiled back at his brother.

Ratchet finally stood, gently moving Sunstreaker's legs together. A wide smile stretched over his face. "Alright Sunny, let's get you laid down. You can rest now."

Sunstreaker snorted at Ratchet as Prowl extricated himself from his kneel behind Sunstreaker. Yellow streaks marred his chest and his fingers, but he didn't mind one bit. Slowly, Sideswipe and Prowl helped Sunstreaker scoot backwards onto the medberth, his sparkling still held close, and Ratchet laid a thick static blanket across his lower body. Sunstreaker sighed as the warmth and soothing electrical current of the blanket gentled his systems. Ratchet spiked Sunstreaker's lower lines, finally deadening his pain sensors.

Wheeljack hovered behind Sideswipe, an odd sheen to his optics. He was silent, but his audial fins kept flashing brilliantly, white-bright lights and peachy tones. "So," he finally asked, his voice oddly lower and slightly gruff. "What's his name?"

Sunstreaker flashed a quick glance to Sideswipe, a final question. Sideswipe smiled and nodded, then leaned down to drop another kiss to the top of their sparkling's helm. One hand rested on Sunstreaker's shoulder while the other stroked over their sparkling's body.

"Prowler," Sunstreaker choked out, his voice too-deep. "His name is Prowler."

Shocked gasps filled the air around their medberth. Prowl's doorwings, already quivering, arched impossibly high, going rigid in shock. His optics surged, his mouth dropped open, and he froze, staring at the twins.

Sideswipe smiled. "We wanted to name him after the best mech we knew," he said softly. "It ended up being a very easy choice." Sideswipe never would have expected Prowl - of all mechs - to be the one who stuck by them both through everything, but since their near-disastrous run-in with their SIC during their ill-planned escape attempt, Prowl had never wavered in his support and friendship. Prowl was a true mech of character, and his spark housed a well of loyalty that ran innumerable fathoms deep. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both now had the unique experience of having a solid, stalwart friend who knew _everything..._ and still supported them. Still cared for them. Still befriended them. It was an alien thought, an alien experience, and it quietly moved both brothers to awe. That entirely unique acceptance and unconditional friendship was something they wanted their sparkling to experience as well, and there hadn't been any question as to who they would be naming their creation after.

Ratchet beamed at Prowl and bumped him with his shoulder. Prowl stood immobile, shocked. He gasped, finally looking back at the sparkling that now bore his name.

Sunstreaker shifted, handing the tiny, fragile bundle towards Prowl. "We expect you to be very involved in his life."

Slowly, almost not trusting his hands to hold him, Prowl accepted the bundle. Prowler stirred in his arms, his tiny optics shifting to gaze into his face. Emotions poured through Prowl, a lifetime's worth of contradictions and expectations. Wars and disasters became meaningless, struggles and hardships a thing of the past. The future stared up at him, tiny fist escaping from the blanket to wave up at his features, and Prowl felt, deep in his spark, that everything was _right_. He could barely speak, forcing his words out through clenched and protesting gears and his overly tight throat. "Thank you," he breathed, then stretched a finger out to grace over Prowler's tiny faceplates and cheek. "I'm unspeakably honored."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker watched Prowl take it all in. They had wanted it to be a surprise and hadn't once hinted at any thoughts behind their choice for a name. Sideswipe squeezed at Sunstreaker's shoulder before he leaned down, dropping a lingering kiss to his brother's plating and helm. "I love you so much," Sideswipe whispered.

Sunstreaker turned, meeting Sideswipe's lips, and they shared another tender kiss between them. They didn't show affection in front of others, not at all, but this time was totally unique. Neither of them had been prepared for this moment and for what emotions they going to feel as their sparkling came into reality. Sideswipe was overjoyed, overcome, overwhelmed, drowning in the totality of love and excitement and complete perfection that was his family. His love for Sunstreaker had created this new life of theirs, and together they had brought him into the world. He was theirs, a symbol of their love, the unification of their bodies and souls. He was floored, each and every time he stared at the tiny bundle and waving arms and legs, or gazed into the perfectly tiny and scrunched up face and dim optics.

A soft cry pushed out of Prowler's vocalizer, a cry for attention. He could feel Sunstreaker nearby, but he wasn't in his arms, and for the moment, that was unacceptable. He cried out again, a small protestation, and started to wiggle. Sunstreaker immediately reached for his sparkling, acting on drive and instinct now deeply scrawled across his spark.

Prowl smiled and handed his namesake back gently. Prowler stilled right away, his soft and tired gaze staring up into Sunstreaker's face as Sunstreaker gently stroked over his soft plating. "You're a natural, Sunstreaker," Prowl whispered.

Sunstreaker shot him a funny look, a cross between a frown and a smile. Ratchet and Wheeljack both chuckled, and Sideswipe couldn't stop beaming. He was radiating joy, bursting with excitement. Sunstreaker's helm seemed to be on a bobble, and it moved between Sideswipe's happy and loving gaze to Prowler's tiny, tired features.

"Alright," Ratchet finally said, drawing everyone's attention. "I need to do some work on Sunstreaker. All the rest of you need to get out for a while." He tempered his gruff words with a small smile. "Sideswipe, go to the washracks. You're filthy." Sideswipe stared down at himself, noticing for the first time the grime and dirt that had coated his plating form both the rescue efforts and his breakneck drive back to the _Ark_. He seemed to have brought half the desert inside with him.

Prowl straightened, trying to push himself back into his professional, officer mindset. It was hard, and eagerness and excitement and joy all clouded his processor. "I need to comm Prime," he said, nodding as if to convince himself to leave.

Trepidation flared between the two brothers. They weren't sure how their leader truly felt about them or their new sparkling. .

Prowl caught their nervous stares. "He's excited," he said softly. "He's been asking about you both non-stop." Prime finished each and every one of their cross-country comms with Prowl by asking about the twins and their sparkling.

Sideswipe tried to relax. He nodded slowly, but still squeezed Sunstreaker's hand.

"Alright, out!" Ratchet sad, louder this time, but still smiling. "I need to work. Out with you all. You can come back in an hour." Sunstreaker had torn Prowler emerged, and he needed to seal the injuries after the tank expelled the rest of the reproductive fluid and the intricate latticework of tubules and wires that had sustained Prowler's growth throughout the carrying. "Wheeljack will take Prowler and get him cleaned up." They needed to run a few tests for operations and internals, then take measurements and baseline readings.

Sunstreaker nodded and stroked over Prowler's cheek one last time before passing him along to Wheeljack. Sideswipe's hand trailed off his little helm, and they both watched Wheeljack walk across the medbay with their sparkling. Not more than 10 seconds later, Prowler's tiny cries echoed throughout the medbay. Sideswipe sighed, a small, pained smile on his faceplates. "I'll be back as quick as Ratchet lets me," he whispered to Sunstreaker with a gentle kiss.

"Shoo!" Ratchet herded a reluctant Prowl and Sideswipe from the medbay, chasing them out the doors with a gentle smile. Both mechs turned around, staring at Sunstreaker and Prowler's wailing struggle with Wheeljack across the medbay. Smiles strained both of their faceplates, and Sideswipe blew Sunstreaker a quick kiss as he met his brother's exhausted, brilliant gaze.

Jazz was waiting for them in the _Ark's_ corridor, slouching against the bulkhead. He straightened as the medbay doors opened, his gaze flashing between Prowl and Sideswipe. "How is he?" Jazz asked quickly.

Sideswipe burst into a wide grin, full of excitement. "We did it!" he burst, shouting happily. "He's here! Our sparkling is here!"

Jazz grinned wide, pulling Sideswipe into a quick bear hug. Sideswipe gripped back on Jazz's shoulders briefly, still beaming. "Sunny was amazing. He did perfect. And, our sparkling. Primus, our sparkling is perfect."

Jazz chuckled at Sideswipe's enthusiasm. "Congrats, Sides! I'm happy for you, I really am." They smiled together for a moment before Sideswipe turned, nearly running down the corridor.

"I've got to wash up, then I can come back!" Sideswipe called back over his shoulder. "Thanks, Jazz! Come back and see him in a bit!" He raced off, solely focused on getting back to Sunstreaker and his sparkling.

Jazz shook his helm as he turned back to Prowl. "Hey, Prowler," he said softly. "How'd it go?"

Prowl started at hearing Jazz's familiar nickname. He grinned wide, a brilliant smile beaming forth. "You can never call me that again, Jazz," he slowly teased. "You can _never_ call me that again!"

"Huh?" Jazz frowned, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not a sparkling, Jazz," Prowl teased again, still beaming. "That's not my name."

It took Jazz a moment to register what Prowl was telling him. His mouth dropped open, shocked. "No way!" Jazz cried out. "They named him Prowler?"

Prowl nodded quickly, bursting with pride. He had been overwhelmed with so much happiness in the past 24 hours. He was drowning in it.

Jazz beamed, shaking his helm in disbelief. "Congratulations to you too, _Prowl_," Jazz said again, emphasizing Prowl's correct name. He cocked his helm to the side, visor flashing as he stared at Prowl. "It looks good on you, Prowl," Jazz said softly.

Prowl turned quizzical optics to Jazz. "Happiness," Jazz answered. "Looks _real_ good on you."

Prowl beamed again. Jazz had been a big part of that happiness last night, and now with the sparkling here and the twins safe and happy, the world was finally seemingly settling into place. The war was the past. The future was here.

"I've got to break the news to Prime. Do you want to come with me? We can go see Sunstreaker and _Prowler_ in a few hours, after Ratchet's done." Prowl put a teasing emphasis on the new sparkling's name, getting a Primusly forbidden amount of joy at that simple statement. His optics glowed as he gazed at Jazz.

Jazz nodded, and together they set off down the corridor. Jazz's hand rose, resting on Prowl's shoulder, and they shared another brilliant smile between them both in silence.

* * *

Prowler's small cries and wails were still ringing through the medbay. Sunstreaker sighed and rolled his helm, trying to get a glimpse of his sparkling as Ratchet adjusted the static blanket. "Is he alright?" Sunstreaker's optics caught a flailing fist, pumping through the air in time to his small wails.

Ratchet peered at Wheeljack, clearly struggling with Prowler. He was trying to measure his small frame, but Prowler's continued wails and wiggles were complicating the process. Wheeljack's audial fins flashed on and off, and Ratchet could practically hear his processor reasoning through the best way to position the sparkling in order to successfully measure, scan, and weigh his little body.

"He's fine," Ratchet said, turning back to Sunstreaker. "Just misses you." He smiled and reached for his tools and sealant, ready to repair Sunstreaker. "Just relax and lay back. I'll get you patched up and then you can have him back with you."

Sunstreaker nodded and lay back, relaxing into the medberth. He exhaled, for the first time allowing himself to rest and to recover from the ordeal.

He had a sparkling now, he and Sideswipe. Prowler was _here_. That fact sealed itself deep within Sunstreaker's spark, housed in the same immoveable depths as his love for Sideswipe.

"Ratchet," Sunstreaker called out, staring at the medbay ceiling. His optics dimmed as they took in the orange plating, the rivets and dents associated with the ship he had come to know as his only real home.

"Yes?"

Sunstreaker swallowed. "Thank you," he whispered. "For everything." Without Ratchet, his support, his anger, his frustration, and his care, Sunstreaker wouldn't have survived. Sunstreaker counted Ratchet among those very few mechs that he trusted with not only his life, but with his _family's_ life.

Ratchet smiled. "I never doubted that you could do this, Sunny," Ratchet said. "You really are our strongest mech."

Sunstreaker smiled and let himself go, relaxing into the soothing touches and the warmth of the static blanket, and his processor held onto the sounds of his sparkling across the medbay.

It was all going to be different now, again, but this time, Sunstreaker welcomed that change.


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

* * *

Sideswipe cupped his hand around his sparkling's tiny helm as Prowler sucked on the feeding line extending from his wrist. Energon, refined slightly through Sideswipe's systems to a less potent form and pre-mixed with the ore additives, flowed from Sideswipe's tanks to their young creation. Prowler's optics were dimming, and for the second time, Prowler drifted back into recharge in near mid-suck. His lips popped off of Sideswipe's feeding line with a tiny, sleepy gasp.

Sunstreaker smiled at his brother as Sideswipe retracted his feeding line and secured the previously concealed panel in his wrist. Sideswipe had been overjoyed when he returned from his exceedingly quick washdown the day prior just in time for Prowler's first feeding. Sunstreaker hadn't ingested enough energon that morning to fuel Prowler, and it fell to Sideswipe to be the first to feed their sparkling. Sideswipe sat next to Sunstreaker, cuddled close with Prowler in both of their arms, when Prowler first fastened on to Sideswipe's feeding line. Energon flowed, and his optics fixed on both of his parent's faces with wide, curious wonder.

Sideswipe didn't have enough energon to fuel Prowler throughout the night, though, and Ratchet had to spike the little sparkling with an energon line for his first fitful night of recharge. Prowler didn't like that at all, and both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe rushed to refuel themselves as quickly as possible. All three had squeezed themselves onto one large medberth, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker bracketing Prowler on either side before the family fell into an exhausted recharge. Prowler was online and off throughout the night, and then he was up early, crying for another tiny tankful of energon. Sideswipe pulled out Ratchet's spike line and then Sunstreaker had his turn at feeding Prowler for the first time.

Sideswipe ran his hand down Prowler's bundled body. They wrapped him in a bundle of blankets, nestling his body into a compact roll that kept both his body warm and engine humming.

"I can't believe we're parents," Sideswipe whispered. His voice was soft, but still echoed around the empty, early-morning medbay.

Sunstreaker gently tickled his fingers across his tiny creation's check. Prowler twitched in recharge, and his mouth reflexively opened, as if he was ready to feed once more. Sunstreaker's hand drifted down, his fingers lacing with Sideswipe's on top of Prowler. "He's perfect," Sunstreaker whispered, echoing Sideswipe's words of the day prior.

Sideswipe squeezed his brother's hand. "How are you feeling?" he asked after a moment.

"I'm doing better." Emergence was hard on the body, and his own strength had been his undoing. Still, as Sunstreaker stared down at Prowler's perfect little body and tiny, recharging faceplates, he didn't mind the pain one bit.

Silence. Only the sound of Prowler's breathy vents filling the medbay. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's hands stayed locked together over their sparkling. Finally, Sunstreaker spoke again. "It wasn't our fault," Sunstreaker breathed. "It wasn't us."

Sideswipe frowned. "What?"

"It wasn't us." Sunstreaker finally met his brother's gaze. Sideswipe gasped, seeing every tiny, perfect crystalline structure of his brother's cobalt optics, refracting from a depth he hadn't seen in years. "We didn't do anything to make our creators leave us. It wasn't _us_ that made them abandon us."

Sideswipe held his breath. Sunstreaker nurtured a deep hurt over their lifelong abandonment, and it was something that Sideswipe had always known about but had never truly been able to experience. Sunstreaker kept that part of his spark deeply locked away, buried and unseen, even from his brother. Sideswipe hadn't ever given much thought to their creators, but Sunstreaker had always, always carried that hurt deep within his soul.

"How can you abandon this?" Sunstreaker's helm dipped down, motioning to Prowler. "He's perfect. He's entirely innocent." Sunstreaker paused, his lips working slowly, though no sounds came out. Finally, his vocalizer onlined again. "So were we," he choked out. "It wasn't our fault."

Sideswipe smiled. "No, Sunny, it wasn't our fault." He cupped his brother's cheek, running his fingers over his jaw. "It never was," he whispered, then pressed a delicate kiss to Sunstreaker's lips. .

The medbay doors hissed open, echoing throughout the early morning stillness. Sideswipe broke their kiss and twisted, glancing over his shoulder.

Prowl strode toward them, three cubes of energon balanced in his hands, along with his customary handful of data pads. "Good morning," Prowl called out. "How was your night?"

"We all did great," Sideswipe answered with a smile. Prowler stirred but didn't wake, and he nuzzled against Sunstreaker's plating. Sunstreaker pulled Prowler's helm up into the crook of his neck, resting his chin on the top of the bundle.

Prowl passed Sideswipe two cubes, one for each brother, and waited as Sideswipe mixed their additives. "He looks like you, Sideswipe," Prowl said, quirking his optic ridges at the red twin.

Sideswipe brightened instantly. "You think so?" His optics traced over Prowler's features.

Prowl nodded. Prowler's helm was shaped much like Sideswipe's, and tiny proto-audial horns were just barely visible. He certainly didn't have Sunstreaker's exotic helm finials or crest, nor any of the shaping that came with Sunstreaker's unusual helm.

"I think he has Sunny's chin though." Sunstreaker frowned and looked down, inspecting Prowler's chin for himself. "See?" Sideswipe motioned.

"I don't see it," Sunstreaker grunted. Prowler remained oblivious to the inspections, still in his peaceful recharge.

Prowl nodded, faintly seeing tiny traces of Sunstreaker's strikingly sharp jaw line. Prowler had the softness of a sparkling, but his jaw was shaped in just such a way that Prowl could faintly see the similarity. He smiled, letting the tranquility of the morning and the new family settle into his spark. "Prime is on his way back to the _Ark_."

Tension thrummed through the air, tranquility broken. Twins gazes of shock and surprise flicked to Prowl. Sideswipe spoke first, his optics flashing with trepidation. "He's coming… now?"

Prowl nodded. "He wants to see your sparkling as soon as possible."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared an uneasy glance. They were happy together, and with themselves, Ratchet, Prowl, and even Wheeljack and Jazz. There were few mechs on the _Ark_ that they could feel comfortable around, and only four that they could trust. They had no idea how Prime was going to react to their sparkling and their relationship. He was their commanding officer, their Prime, their leader, and they had _lied_ to him for the entire duration of their service.

"When?" Sideswipe finally asked, turning back to Prowl.

"He lands later this morning. Everything will be fine."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared an uneasy look. Sunstreaker tucked his chin down around Prowler's helm and Sideswipe rested his hand over Prowler's back in a tender, protective gesture.

* * *

Jazz sighed and stretched his shoulders. The morning sun was rising across the painted desert, and all the striations and geological layers were illuminated in brilliant washes of golds, taupes, and reds. Morning dew was just about to evaporate, but for the moment, the morning was chilly, wet, and silent. Jazz sighed again, smiling.

A small dust cloud slowly rose distance. Jazz picked out the size and shape of the cloud, and knew instantly who was on their way. He grinned and settled in to wait.

Several minutes later, a small family car pulled up to the _Ark_. Two familiar humans clambered out, Spike and Sparkplug each sliding around the car to the front. They shuffled their feet for a moment.

"How's it going?" Jazz called out, a happy, friendly lilt to his voice.

"Good." Sparkplug rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing down before looking up again. Spike was staring wide-eyed at Jazz, seemingly debating what to say. "So… we heard about the twins," Sparkplug finally said.

Jazz nodded. Prime released a short statement after Prowl had commed their leader with the news, and the whole world now knew that the Autobots had a new sparkling on board. Sideswipe's reckless race back from Portland to the _Ark_ the day prior had hit the news as well, and Sideswipe was pretty quickly identified as one of the parents. Bumblebee privately confided to his human friends the twins' condition, and the revelation had stunned the humans for more than one reason.

"How are they doing?" Spike finally asked.

"Good." Jazz kept smiling at the humans. They had found out all at once that not only did the giant alien robots have sparklings amongst each other, but that giant alien robot _brothers_ were having a sparkling together. It was a lot to take in.

"That's good," Sparkplug said, nodding and looking away. Spike continued to stare at Jazz, and Jazz could practically see Spike thinking about the various mechs and potential partnerships among the crew. "We got something for them," Sparkplug finally blurted out, looking back at Jazz. "I don't really understand what's going on," Sparkplug began.

"Join the crew!" Jazz quipped, smiling wide.

Sparkplug grunted. "Yeah, well, we wanted to commemorate the occasion… no matter how weird it may be." He grinned. Spike scampered away and came back with a soft stuffed plushie in his hands.

Sparkplug spoke again, softer this time. "I was told this is the ultimate in kids toys these days."

Jazz lifted the plushie, which was large by human standards, and came face to face with a stuffed replica of Optimus Prime. He laughed out loud, rolling peals of laughter flowing out of his vocalizer. "Man, this is great!"

Spike and Sparkplug beamed. Sparkplug pulled Spike close to his side, gripping him around the shoulder. "I remember when Spike here came home. I don't know what parenting is like for you guys, but for me, it was the best thing that ever happened. I wish them luck, I really do. It's going to be a wild ride."

Jazz nodded at the humans, his smile turning soft. "Thanks, man. I know they're going to appreciate this." Spike and Sparkplug smiled back up at him, and for the moment, the discomfort over the unusual situation was forgotten.

* * *

Wheeljack sidled into Ratchet's office silently, slipping past the recharging twins ensconced around Prowler's tiny, bundled body on one of the medberths.

"Good morning." Ratchet slid the office doors shut, leaving the recharging family to rest in peace.

"That," Wheeljack grunted as he collapsed into the chairs in front of Ratchet's desk. "Was really gross."

Ratchet stared at Wheeljack for three seconds before bursting into loud peals of laughter. His helm tipped back as he collapsed himself, settling into his desk chair and relaxing. "C'mon, 'Jack, that went great. It couldn't have gone better."

"Aside from Sunstreaker's shrieking and the general grossness of it all?" Wheeljack took a long draught from his energon cube.

Ratchet shook his helm. "Sunstreaker came in too late to offline his pain sensors. The meds would have hurt him and Prowler."

"This is **Sunstreaker**." Wheeljack pointed at the twin in question. "He's walked into the medbay carrying his own detached limbs before."

Ratchet shook his helm. "Aside from a little bit of pain, he's the proud parent of a new sparkling with Sideswipe."

Wheeljack grumbled good naturedly. "You did great," Wheeljack said after they leaned back in their chairs. "I know you were nervous about the whole thing."

"I was fragging scared out of my bolts," Ratchet breathed. "I've never delivered a sparkling before. I was nearly as obsessive as Sideswipe, reading those data pads."

"I know." Wheeljack thought back to their coffee table, berthside table, and the floor around the foot of their berth. Data pads on sparklings littered the decking, and he tripped over them nearly every day. "But it all paid off. You did great."

Ratchet smiled. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"I didn't do anything helpful," Wheeljack snorted. "I just stayed out of the way and passed you your tools."

"You did everything," Ratchet said, meaning everything that Wheeljack did for _him_, and all of the support that Ratchet had relied on throughout the entire experience.

"I nearly dropped Prowler," Wheeljack protested. "He's a wiggler!"

"He just missed Sunstreaker." Ratchet smiled. "He's adorable."

Wheeljack was silent for a long moment. "Well, yeah. He is cute." Wheeljack's audial fins flashed. "Did you see that name coming?"

Ratchet shook his helm.

A small cry from Prowler broke the tender mood. Ratchet leaned around, trying to see the twins from his vantage point at the desk.

Wheeljack beat Ratchet to his feet. "I'll go see," he pronounced, dropping his cube to Ratchet's desk surface. Ratchet stared at him, his mouth dropping open. "I need practice with this sparkling stuff." Wheeljack's optics twinkled as he flashed Ratchet a quick wink before striding across the medbay to the twins and Prowler.

* * *

Optimus Prime rose from his alt mode outside the _Ark_, breathing in the sweet scents of home. Red dust, aged steel, and the tangy scent of far-off pine filled his nostrils. It was different, so much so, from Cybertron, but it was the closest thing they had to a home now. It was infinitely better than Washington DC and New York City on any day. Every day.

Prowl and Jazz strode forward, meeting their leader with happy smiles. "Sir," Prowl said, his one simple word seeming to convey a full spectrum of welcome and fidelity.

"We missed ya!" Jazz piped up, still grinning wide as he relaxed into a comfortable slouch, his hands braced on his hips.

Prime retracted his blast mask. "It's good to be home."

They moved through the _Ark_ slowly, stopping to chat with every mech that they passed, though they seemed to pass by them all. Happy conversation bounced throughout the corridors, and Prime saw a few data pads quietly changing hands.

Finally, Prowl extricated Prime from the gathering crew, pulling him down the corridor with Jazz toward the medbay. Prowl caught a few snippets of conversation as they pulled away, and one brightly squealed cry of delight from a quickly-hushed Fireflight. "He's cute!" was all Prowl was able to make out, before the young Aerialbot was silenced.

Prowl cast a quizzical look at Jazz as they followed after Prime. Jazz ducked his helm and leaned close. "I might have shown a few pics of Prowler to a few mechs…."

Prowl quickly shushed Jazz, flashing a quick glance forward. His gaze turned chastising. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe didn't authorize that."

"The crew is excited for them. It's _weird_, yeah, and they're still not totally sure about the whole relationship thing, but this is the first _sparkling_, Prowl. It's the first of the next generation." Jazz's voice was low, pitched so only Prowl could hear.

Prime glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of his two formerly quarrelsome senior officers leaning together conspiratorially. "Everything alright?"

"Sir." Prowl straightened, his doorwings twitching. Jazz grinned, still eyeing Prowl with a small, sly grin. After a moment, Prowl relented and smiled back.

In no time at all they were outside of the medbay. Prime gripped his hands together, inhaling deeply as Prowl unlocked the medbay doors for their entry. Jazz scooted too-close behind Prowl, pressing in between his doorwings as he craned to see inside.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker turned as one. Sunstreaker was still reclining back on the medberth, propped up against the terminal behind him and cradling Prowler. Sideswipe sat on the edge of the medberth, hitched up right next to Sunstreaker and leaning over their sparkling. Their gazes sharpened, staring at the trio of officers - and most importantly at Prime - as they entered the medbay.

Ratchet and Wheeljack joined the officers and Prime as they headed to Sunstreaker's berth. Prowl was once again beaming, unable to contain himself or his fluttering doorwings as he gazed at his namesake. Jazz linked his arm through a surprised Prowl's elbow as they stopped at Sunstreaker's side.

"Welcome back, Prime," Ratchet said softly, adjusting the static blanket covering the lower half of Sunstreaker's body.

Sunstreaker shot Ratchet a quick look, his optics shining and dark, nervous with anticipation.

"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker," Prime began, looking at each twin in turn. "Congratulations." He broke into a wide smile as he gazed at them both. "Despite everything that has occurred, you have brought a healthy new life into our new world."

Sideswipe relaxed visibly, his shoulder weakening as his backstruts slumped. "Thank you, sir," he whispered, his vocalizer weak. He tried to continue, but failed.

Sunstreaker's gaze flashed to his brother, fixing on Sideswipe's crumbling expression. Sideswipe had always held Prime in high esteem, and had always wanted to make their leader proud. Living a lie had been agony for both of them, but having to face up to that lie to the face of their admired Prime was almost as tough. Sunstreaker reached out and grasped his brother's hand, squeezing tight.

Prime watched it all silently. The mood in the medbay had shifted, and the energetic excitement had turned apprehensive. "I am sorry for all the pain that has been felt, both now and throughout the long years of this situation," Prime began, trying to catch Sideswipe's optics once more. He finally reached out and placed one of his large hands on Sideswipe's shoulder, squeezing briefly. "I have always been proud of you both. I am _still_ proud of you both. While we cannot forget the unusual and painful circumstances of this event, I know in the deepest part of my spark that you both are prime examples of the best sort of Autobot. I have never wavered from or doubted that conviction. Ever."

Silence stretched out in the medbay as Sideswipe turned burning optics up to Prime. His lips wavered, trembling under the impact of Prime's words and the emotions unfolding within his spark. Acceptance was pouring in, pouring in from the single mech he had most admired his entire life. Sideswipe gripped down fiercely on Sunstreaker's hand, gathering strength from his brother. "Thank you," Sideswipe whispered again, offering up a faint, wavering smile. "Thank you, Optimus. I…"

Prime squeezed his shoulder again and smiled, forestalling any further comments. "This is a happy day. Let's focus on the good." Sideswipe nodded quickly. "May I see your sparkling?" Prime's gaze shifted to Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker nodded and gently passed Prowler to Sideswipe, who dropped a quick kiss to his forehelm before passing him along to Prime. Prime accepted the small bundle within his giant hands with a small, barely audibly sigh. He drew Prowler close to his, holding his breath.

"He is an absolute delight." Prime spoke gently. His hand rose, cupping Prowler's small, bundled body. "What is his name?"

Smiles broke out around the medbay, and Jazz elbowed Prowl. "Prowl sorta forgot to mention that one to you, Prime," Jazz teased. Prowl threw Jazz a dirty sidelong scowl, though it was edged with warmth.

Prime chuckled aloud at Prowl and Jazz, locked arm in arm and smiling. He never thought he'd ever see his two officers so friendly toward one another. "Oh?"

Sideswipe beamed at Prowl and motioned for him to continue. Sunstreaker remained silent and Ratchet and Wheeljack were likewise no help to the SIC. Prowl sighed, his doorwings arching high. "His name," he began, "is Prowler."

Prime froze for an astrosecond. He laughed, then peered down at Prowler. "Well, _Prowler_," he said, placing the same teasing emphasis on the name that Prowl had the day before. "Your parents named you after an incredible mech."

"That's what I said," Jazz muttered, just loud enough for everyone to hear. This time, Prowl shot him an unreadable - though undoubtedly happy - look. "Oh, I almost forgot." Jazz reached into his subspace and pulled out the plushie Spike and Sparkplug had dropped off. "This is from Spike and Sparkplug. It's the hottest new kids toy for humans." Jazz waggled the Prime plushie in front of Sideswipe. Sideswipe burst out laughing.

Prowl shook his helm. Jazz beamed back at him, and once again, Prowl had to smile in return.

Finally, Prowler began to protest the absence of his parents, and his small cry caught everyone's attention. Sideswipe stood, taking Prowler as Prime handed him over. Sideswipe smiled down at his sparkling and Prowler stopped his small cries, entranced with his parent. Sideswipe settled down next to Sunstreaker on the medberth, tucking Prowler in between them. Prowler made a small noise, a coo of satisfaction, and wiggled before rolling into Sunstreaker's plating.

Everyone was smiling. Wheeljack's arm snaked around Ratchet's hips. Ratchet stubbornly kept up his tough-mech exterior, keeping his arms folded, though a small smile stretched across his faceplates. Jazz and Prowl stood together, sharing small smiles with each other as they watched Prowl's namesake and the twins.

Prime soaked it all in, his spark expanding with the swell of change that had occurred in the time he had been gone. So much was different, and yet, beneath it all, everything was still the same. They were all still Autobots, all still a crew, a team, and a family. Now, their family had increased by one, and Prime had a spark-deep feeling that it was only the first of many.

The Decepticons were still out there and still a threat, but for now, life was continuing to march forward in happy, joyous ways.

Sideswipe leaned his forehelm against the side of Sunstreaker's audial, gazing down at Prowler. Sideswipe nuzzled his brother's helm, then dropped a light kiss to his cheek. "I love you, Sunny," Sideswipe breathed, pitched too low for anyone else to hear.

Their gazes met, and as Prowler curled into their shared hold, a tender warmth bloomed across their sparks. This was their life, _together_, and their future.

Nothing would ever divide them again.

~ finis


End file.
